


I Want to See the Sunrise and Your Sins

by Little_Red92



Series: Even The Stars They Burn [1]
Category: Jak and Daxter
Genre: Action/Adventure, Character Study, Deviates From Canon, F/M, First Kiss, Keira Deserves Some Love, Keira-Centric, Lovers in peril, Mild Gore, Past Abuse, Romance, Trauma, bamf Keira, battle couples, past emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 12:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18717481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Red92/pseuds/Little_Red92
Summary: Jak’s eyes flicker across her face, gaze glistening with a dozen swirling emotions. Sometimes Keira doesn’t need him to speak, can understand what is being conveyed by the shade of his irises, other times the silence is unreadable. Worry tightens her throat, she needs him to say something, anything to let her know she hasn’t said the wrong thing. Again. His gaze locks with hers, hearts beating in time. There is a brief flash of confidence, a starburst of courage and a to hell with it a grin then Jak is closing the space between them.***Set during Jak 3Jak and Keira find their way back to each on the battlefield, face down an enemy from their past and fall back in love along the way.





	I Want to See the Sunrise and Your Sins

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a love letter to Jak and Keira; they were my first OTP and will always hold a special place in my heart. 
> 
> I'd also like to mention it deals with emotional abuse and brief mentions of Jak's imprisonment. After replaying the games and returning to the fandom, I noticed Keira receives a lot of negativity and after reading some interesting posts regarding her relationship with Erol, I felt the need to explore it and show Keira some love. This fic is a roller-coaster of emotions, scattered with purple prose and woven with love and pain. 
> 
> This fic started off as a one shot about sharing body warmth and took a turn into this! It was incredible to write, took a while to complete and edit is un-beta'd so I apologise for any errors, but hope above all you will enjoy reading it :)

 

Keira inhales the familiar, comforting scent of sea air. Tension ebbing from coiled muscles as the smell carries her back in time to a peaceful evening another world away. Haven City fades away, the stench of sewerage lost to the sweet memory of jasmine. A calm ocean set ablaze by the evening sun manifests behind closed eyes, a crisp summers breeze ruffles fingers through her hair, cooling sweat from sun-kissed skin. Warmth stirs in Keira's chest, a sense of longing beating in time with her heart. If she had just three wishes, one would be to spend one more sunset at Sentinel beach, to gaze up at the velvet night sky and map out constellations. Given the state of the world, it was a selfish wish, yet she yearns for the almost forgotten days of peace.

Longs for the golden days of care-free adventures and glitter nights of tales around a fire.

Keira would climb one of the towers on Sentinel beach like clock-work every Sunday evening, look out at the ocean with wonder, heart filled with delight, head curious to know what creatures lurked in the cold depths of the sea, what other places existed beyond her reach. She desired nothing more than to pack a bag and set sail across the vast seas in search of mysteries, chase legends and bedtime tales. Keira never did get the chance to build a vessel that would carry her too far off lands, not in the magical way she imagined.

She did travel to an unknown place, but instead of wonder and beauty, she found cruelty and fear. There were ugly, steel buildings and decrepit houses where wild, lush landscapes should be. There were monsters at every turn, dressed like gentlemen, hidden behind friendly smiles and kind gestures. Keira shudders at the memory, arms instinctively wrapping around her midriff in a feeble attempt to sooth the sudden churning of her stomach. Keira exhales the rising anxiety, taking a moment to collect herself before heading back towards the war-torn city.

Her father would be furious if he knew she was out here. The pumping station is known for its dangerous inhabitants, only Wastelanders dare wonder out here. With the Metal Head’s focused on the destruction of the city the pumping station has been left abandoned, and though it’s an eerie place at times, there isn’t any way else Keira could have gone to see such a beautiful sunset. The risk was worth the reward, after seeing so much carnage and bloodshed over the past three months she needed a reminder that there was still beauty in the world.

The last strands of daylight lose their fight against the night, dusk settling over her skin with a cool touch. Crickets chirp in the nearby bushes and leaves rustle like something is awakening, ready for a long night of hunting. Keira grips her crossbow tight with trembling fingers, aiming it unsteadily at the shrubbery, breath held behind clenched teeth as the creature emerged in one quick bound. A bright orange lizard streaked across the sand, spiked tail whipping about as a low hiss ripped from its throat. It dove into the polluted ocean, disappearing into its murky depths.

Keira watched the ripples for a moment longer, waiting for an air bubble to reveal the creatures hiding place. Nothing. It had swum off to find more suitable prey in the cover of darkness. Heart returning to a steady rhythm Keira holstered the weapon, setting off to the city with quick steps, scanning the shadows for hidden threats. Lights from the city wall flickered in the distanct. Fear seized Keira's chest, heart skipping a beat with each flicker of light. 

All went dark for one long, terrifying moment then the power kicked back in and the lights glowed strong against the night. Keira sighed in relief, continuing forward. Constant attacks from Metal Head’s and KG death bots have left the various section of the city in near constant blackouts. She’d fixed the power grids half a dozen times in the last month alone. The next attack would probably cause permanent damage.

And they were running short of electricians. Four were dead and two critically injured in separate attacks. _What a time to be alive_ , she thought bitterly, gaze drifting to the Day Star that glowed brightly in the darkening sky. As kids it was a tradition to make a wish on the first star of the night, tales of the moon were told around campfires, the golden sun burnt their skin on sweltering hot days, but the purple day star was seen as something divine. A gift left by the Precursors the sages would say, a reminder that they were out there, watching over the world they created.

Well someone was watching over them. A cruel, twisted monster was guiding the violet star, which was nothing more than a vessel of destruction made by the Dark Makers, towards them. Erol intended to obliviate the world, destroy every beautiful creature, enchanting forest, deep and unexplored ocean all because he couldn’t have her. Couldn’t have Jak. This was his revenge. Keira feels infinitely small, paralysed by memories that are torn and tarnished by the reveal of Erol’s true nature.

For a year he manipulated her, lied and conned his way into her good graces. Looking back, she can see the cracks in the façade, memories no longer rose-coloured and shimmering. She was a young girl struggling to survive in a cruel worl. She'd seen the worst of men, had been harassed and stalked and treated like an object. Haven City was not a safe place for girls, and Keira quickly learnt that she had to toughen up if she intended to survive.

When Erol sauntered into the garage one day, Keira expected to be greeted by another undignified comment and looked over with a leering gaze. Erol showed only respect, a touch of surprise at learning Krew's new mechanic was female. Keira needed a hero, a protector to chase off the men that hung around like tomcats, lurking in the shadows waiting for the right moment to strike. Erol's status as commander offered protection she couldn't afford to live without, and that's all it was at first. But he charmed her with pretty words and a crooked smile, flattered her with compliments, praised her knowledge and skill.

From where she stands now, under the night sky with death winking at her from way up high, she can see the truth. Everything Erol did was in an effort to control her, _own her._ He edged his way in, showing up out of nowhere with gifts and promises of a better future. Twisted lies warped her perception, amber eyes filled her with poison, and a carefully constructed mask concealed the dark side that came out to play when he stepped into the prison.

Keira did not see the monster until it was too late.

Tears gather in her eyes, turning the night sky into a watery blur of twinkling lights. Keira succumbs to the anguish, heavy head dropping into her hands. She was so foolish, so naive to believe that anyone working for Praxis could be a decent person. All it took was a few kind gestures, some encouraging words and Keira was wrapped around his finger. Guilt knots in her throat while anger simmers in an upset stomach. Erol manipulated her with every word, at every turn. He knew precisely what to say to lift her up, and knock her down. He toyed with her, used her as a trophy and in the end, a weapon against Jak.

Keira lifts her head, tears drying on flushed cheeks, chest rising with each shaky breath. She’s never felt so frightened in her life, so _helpless_. She’s alone once more, adrift in a sea of mistakes, heartache and regret. Time cannot be undone, there is no erasing the damage of the past two years, Jak must wear the scares of Erol’s cruelty and so must she. Taking a calming breath, Keira squares her shoulders, chest swelling with determination.

She is not helpless and this world is not yet lost. Her friendship with Jak not yet over. There is a monstrous ship in the sky, carrying death and a man that did unspeakable things and she is going to help Jak stop it. She’s going to help Jak defeat _him._  Bravery reignited, Keira marches on with renewed confidence towards the city.

_“Keira! Keira, where are you?”_

Startled, Keira clutches at her chest as she stares at the comm that just sprung from her back pocket. It hovers in the air as her father yells frantically.

“ _We’re under attack!”_ he bellowed through the speaker. _“Whatever you, don’t come back here.”_

“What?” her already racing heart lurches into her throat, the world tilting and wilting as panic leaves her reeling. “Wait, I can help.”

 _“No, stay put.”_ He ordered. _“The KG bots are attacking HQ, and if you try to reach us, you’ll be caught in the crossfire._ ” He explained hurriedly. In the distance, Ashelin can be heard shouting orders. _“Please tell me you're safe.”_

“I am, I’m outside the city… at the pumping station,” she admitted reluctantly.

There is a distant echo of an explosion followed by terrified screaming, the signal cuts in and out, static shredding her father’s words. Whatever he is trying to say is broken into distorted syllables, the only clear sound a wailing siren. Keira’s heart aches, regret collecting like an old friend beneath her ribs. She should be there, shouldn’t have let the anxiety carry her to this God damn place. She has to do something but armed with only an automated crossbow and a dozen eco bolts she is no match for Metal Heads and death bots.

Her fathers panicked voice finally cuts out in a fritz of static, the night falling eerily quiet. Keira stares helplessly at the communicator, hand reaching out towards it, touching air as the comm zips away and shrinks before nestling in her back pocket. She remains frozen, clutching at the air. Staying here is not an option, not while her friends and father fight for their lives. She may not have Jak’s combat skills or Ashelin’s military training, but she can throw a mean left hook and has enough bolts to take out a dozen bots.

Burning with courage, filled with foolish determination, Keira runs towards the gates, feet pounding on the ground in time with her racing heart. Rusted cranks groan and whirl as the automatic doors slowly slides open, revealing a city under siege. There is utter chaos, the pavement is speckled with blood, littered with bodies and debris. Screams of fear, of agony, come from all directions. Keira’s stomach churns at the stench of burnt flesh, eyes stinging in the toxic fumes that are wafting from somewhere she cannot see.

In the distant the battle can be heard. Explosions ring in her ears, pulse waves sending ripples through the air, ground shuddering as another blast goes off. Keira will never forget the horrors of war. The bloodstained streets, dismembered bodies and lifeless eyes of children will follow her to the end. The death bots at least kill their victims swiftly, one shot and it’s over, unlike the Metal Heads who toy with their prey, tear people apart just to hear them scream. Together they are an unstoppable foe, monsters killing and destroying in the name of a vile man.

This war can only end with the destruction of the Dark Maker's ship, peace will not be found until then.

Keira forces frozen limps to move, to carry her through the carnage, toward the fight. She readies the crossbow as she runs, its loaded with blue eco infused bolts, one hit and a death bot is down for the count, leaving it nothing more than a fritzing heap of scrap metal. She’s taken a few bots apart in the past, even made a few prototypes of her own but Ashelin wouldn’t allow robots to fight alongside her men, worried that Erol could gain control of them. Her concerns were valued, though it didn’t stop Keira from tinkering away, curious to know how they worked, designing weapons with Tess to take them out.

The crossbow was a gift from Tess, her father disapproved at first, would much rather she be locked away in a tower than be anywhere near the battlefield, but when Ashelin pointed out Keira should have a way to protect herself he quickly changed his tune. Anger stirred in her gut, he always listened to Ashelin, allowed Jak to wade into war, expected him to save them and the whole damn world. Keira was tired of being the mechanic, the sweet girl who needed saving.

Over time envy for Ashelin shifted to admiration, hostility fading when the older woman offered to teach her basic combat training. A tentative friendship blossomed after she scolded Samos for treating her like a child. Ashelin respected her, encouraged her to fight, comforted her when Jak was banished from the city and held her back as she swore to dismember Veger. Amid the death and destruction, Keira had formed friendships she never envisioned having. Tess was her light and joy, the best friend she never knew she needed and Ashelin was the guiding force helping her to heal and encouraging her to be strong.

Shaking the fond memories away, Keira focused on the frightening streets she ran through. Up ahead another blast lite up the night sky, shrapnel raining down in charred, smouldering chunks. Keira halted, deafened by the sound, body trembling from the shockwave. Squinting through the debris and smoke, Keira could see a figure stalking towards her, its movements jerky, blue sparks strikingly vivid in the cloud of orange smoke. Grip tightening, Keira held the crossbow steady, waiting for the bot to come into range before releasing the trigger.

The death bot staggered into view, flanked by two functioning machines. The arrow sailed with a whistle through the air, embedding into the chest of the broken bot, sending it crashing to the ground, where its limbs twitched and sparked. The other two zeroed in, their red laser lights appearing over her racing heart. She wouldn’t have time to shoot them both, one of these monstrous machines would be the death of her. At least she could take one more bastard down with her. Not that it mattered, another would be remade, sent down from the floating war factor that has hovered above the city like a storm cloud for months.

Teeth gritted, heart hammering, Keira fired, bracing herself for the end. It does not come. The death bots fall in unison, one shot through the chest with her eco bolt and the other’s head exploded by a bullet.  Breath spills out in a rush of relief that hitches towards the end in a sob. Keira doubles over, overwhelmed by the sheer panic. Blinded by tears and deafened by the drumbeat of her heart, all Keira can do is tremble.

A voice calls from afar, carrying her up, up, up. Strong, calloused hands tug at shuddering shoulders, the familiar voice scattering the fear and calming the rhythm of her erratic heart. Keira untangles herself from the swirling mess of panic, gasping in air so thick with fumes that it burns on the way down. Ash coated lashes blink away tears, lungs constricting in desperate need for oxygen. Distantly she hears Jak telling her they have to move, can feel him guiding her, but she can’t see which direction they are heading, they are fumbling through the grey in hopes of reaching somewhere safe.

It looks like the entire world has been set ablaze, the streets are blanketed in a haze of smoke that glows orange from the hungry flames that climb towards the night sky. Keira scrambles to pull the goggles over her eyes, lashing fluttering frantically to cleanse the burn from them. Jak’s hand is firm and sure in her grip, guiding her through the fire and smoke, helping her over fallen Freedom Fighters and chunks of metal that twitch and spark.

She stumbles and staggers, legs cramping and quivering as lungs aching for fresh air fail to send oxygenated blood through her frayed system. The foolish bravery has been snuffed out, there is only cold fear in its place, a fundamental need to survive forcing her onwards. How does Jak do this? How is he so calm in the face of so much tragedy? Keira’s shed far too many tears for those lost to this war, spent countless nights watching the clock turn over as sorrow and anxiety kept her from sleep. Jak handles this burden with silent stoicism, wades out to the front line with swagger in his step and a grin on his lips.

Perhaps Jak is not afraid of death, or maybe he is assured enough in his own strength and skill that he never questions if he’ll make it out alive. One day she’ll ask him, that’s if they live to see dawn. The siege has spread to the city walls, the smoke following them like a ravenous beast hungry for their souls. Jak blasts the approaching death bots, bodies falling one by one, only to be replaced by more. Keira steps out of Jak’s shadow, crossbow held high, taking out a hover guard before it can drop a cluster of bombs on them.

“Nice shot.” Jak praises, sparing her a grin. “How many bolts do you have left?”

“Not enough,” she replied, courage feed by Jak’s appraisal. “Jak, there’s too many of them.”

“I know.” Frantic eyes scan their surroundings, searching for a way out, but all there was to see is death and destruction. “I’m running out of ammo, and there’s no way in hell we’ll be able to make it back to HQ.” Jak fired off three more shots before switching gun mods. “We need to retreat.”

“The gates to the pumping station are nearby, we might be safe outside the city.” Keira tries to hide the surprise, she’s never heard Jak admit defeat before. Daxter is always saying that his stubborn nature would be the death of them. Something has changed, the fury and recklessness have been tamed, there is a maturity in Jak that wasn’t there when he was banished to the wasteland. Someone has natured Jak, shown him how to be more than a renegade soldier out for blood.

There isn't any more time to ponder Jak's transition as another wave of bots are marching towards them. Keira takes Jak's hand, leading him along the walkway, around a corner and to the city gates. The doors take their sweet time to open, shots and mechanical screams come closer and as soon as the doors are open enough to squeeze through Jak tugs her across the threshold. Panting, soaked in sweat and covered in ash, Keira doubles over once more, hands braced on her knees as the outer door sluggishly rolls open. Cold night air rushes in like an old friend, luring her out to the beachfront with the promise of safety.

Jak quickly steps in front of her, dark blue eyes scanning the environment for danger, shoulders stiff and stance ready for battle. A few tense moments pass before Jak lowers the Vulcan Fury, turning around to address Keira. “Are you okay?” The pale moonlight reveals how tired Jak is, skin streaked with ash and blood, hands quivering under the weight of the gun held at the ready. He looks absolutely wrecked.

“Yeah, just winded,” she straightened up, chest expanding with deep breaths, lungs rejoicing as fresh air filled them. “Are you?”

“Mostly unscathed,” he replied; flashing a broad smile, white teeth shining bright and brief in the dark. “We need to keep moving, it’s not safe to stay here.”

“Should we try to contact the others?”

“All the comms are down,” he replied solemnly, “one of those bastards detonated HQ’s communication tower.”

“Shit, that explains why the connection with father short-circuited.” Restless energy hums beneath her skin, forcing her to pace, hands coming to rest on her hips as she considers their options. “There is an old radio shack at the top of those cliffs.” Keira points to the bluff barely visible in the distance, the trek up there is steep and treacherous. The shack has been left dormant for years, but the Underground members used to use it as a hideout and a way to reach Torn in times of desperation. “Last I heard the radio worked, so it’s worth a shot, right?”

“Yeah, sure, beats waiting around to be Metal meat.” Jak holstered the Vulcan Fury, gaze drifting towards their destination.  “Who are we contacting?”

“Torn. He always has an old radio lying around just in case.” She replied, starting towards the path. “Hopefully it’ll be warmer in there as well.” Shivering, Keira folded her arms tightly over her midriff. The thin pink fabric of her shirt did little to shield her from the cold night air.

“I might be able to get a fire going," Jak said, grabbing hold of the flailing end of his scarf, ripping the red fabric in half. "Here." He offered Keira the tattered end.

"Thank you." Grateful she took it, fingers grazing against Jak's cold and calloused ones. "Jak, your fingers are freezing!" Keira forced her hands to still, longing to reach for Jak's, wrap them in her own. Instead, Keira used restless fingers to wind Jak's scarf around her neck. It smelt of salty sea air and smoke. 

"I’m not so accustomed to Haven’s weather after living in Spargus,” Jak replied, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his cargo pants.

There is an apology on the tip of Keira’s tongue, one that has been spoken a thousand times already, but sorry is never going to be enough. She couldn’t stop Veger or the council, though she tried. She spoke of Jak’s kind heart and bravery. Beseeched them to let him stay but the city had already decided Jak was a monster. She tried to go with him, would have stabbed Veger right in the eye if it meant she’d be banished alongside Jak, but he refused to let her implicate herself in this mess.

Keira would have followed him to the desert. Wished now that she had. The city was in ruins, the home she rebuilt destroyed. The only safe place was at Jak’s side, but there was a chasm between them, forged of betrayal, jealousy and misunderstandings.  Keira hoped to the Precursors that there was enough of their friendship left to salvage, that the love they once felt for one another glimmered below the tarnished and cracked surface.

Silence fell over them as they neared the bottom of the bluff that rose high into the smoke-streaked sky. Red-lights blinked from a tower that jutted out at an odd angle. Jak took the lead, above the moon offered what light it could to illuminate the way. Keira follows close behind, staggering as a gust of wind rolled in from the ocean, carrying a biting chill. A shiver sets in, stirring awake goosebumps, eyes growing heavy as adrenaline burns out.

God, she'd love a cup of coffee right now, or a soak in a warm bath smelling of lavender and filled to the brim with bubbles. Keira longs for such simple comforts. The eight months free of terror and constant threats of Metal Head attacks had allowed her to indulge. With her friends and father safe, Keira found joy returning. Felt unselfish spending time on trivial things like scented baths and sweet treats. Peace and happiness had been so close, a future bright with hope and shining with possibility was snatched away before she even knew it was hers to take.

Perhaps if she'd tried harder to bridge the distance between herself and Jak, then things wouldn't be like they are now. Maybe if she wasn't so torn apart and traumatised herself then she could have helped Jak heal, but every time she tried, it just drove them further apart. _The broken can’t fix the broken_ , she thinks bitterly to herself, gaze drifting to Jak’s back, stomach clenching at the memory of the jagged scars that crisscrossed his skin like someone used him as a canvas. No, not someone. Erol.

Stopping, Keira casts a fiery glare up at the violet star, anger boiling beneath her skin, an unfamiliar rage coursing through her veins like acid. She wants to scream, scream so loud and thunderous that it will travel miles and miles lightyears away until it reaches the Dark Makers ship, exploding it. She wants the ground to shutter and shake, for every Metal Head and death bot to shatter apart at the sound of her anguish. If only she held so much power in her tiny, fragile frame. If only the Precursors had blessed her with such strength.

“Keira, are you okay?”

Jak’s voice pulls her back from the brink, glistening eyes look away from their impending doom and meet concerned blue eyes. “How do you do this?” the words rise on their own accord, sharp as glass in her throat. “How do you keep it together when everything is falling apart?”

Jak’s eyes flicker towards the sky, anger momentarily darkening his features. “Because he wins if I don’t.” There is a wealth of emotion layered in Jak’s voice, hurt and anger and venom gathering like a storm in his eyes. “I won’t let Erol take any more from me, and I certainly won’t let him destroy this planet.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

The question hangs in the air, loaded and heavy. Jak looks away, expression unreadable, the only sign of distress the twitch of fingers curling into tight fists. The salty sea breeze crests over them, carrying the question away. Keira brushes past him, quickening her pace as she climbs the steep slope, regretting her words, regretting this whole Goddamn night. She is not a fighter, not battle-hardened or iron-willed, she should have stayed on the sidelines, out of harm's way.

“Keira, wait.” Jak jogs to catch up to her, lightly grabbing her elbow to make her stop. “I’m sorry, you just caught me off guard. No one has ever asked me that before.”

Keira stops, balanced precariously on a wooden step that feels like it will snap beneath her weight at any given moment. “I guess everyone assumes the hero is fearless.”

“I think people assume a lot about me,” he sighed, hands coming to rest on his hips, “but to answer your question, yes I am afraid, but not of Erol. Not anymore.”

Keira bites back a sob, caught between wanting to weep and embrace Jak in a hug as pride swells within. Erol tortured and taunted him, tried to kill him and is currently hellbent on obliviating this entire world, and Jak is standing here, calm in the face of death and kicking metaphoric sand in his abuser's face. A smile graces her face, hand reaching out in the dark, finding Jak's fingers to offer a gentle touch that Keira hopes conveys everything she is unable to say.

It’s just a brush of fingers, a whisper in the night, but it was enough to ignite a spark. Jak gravitated towards her, pulled by the strings of fate, closing the distance between them. Keira capsizes in the depth of ocean blue eyes, entranced by the memories they hold. Long summer days playing in the sun, building sandcastles and chasing seagulls. Nights spent stargazing, taking midnight dips in the shallows by the farmer's hut.

The past glistens in Jak’s eyes like a constellation of stars, beautiful and bittersweet. Keira blinks the moister from her eyes, exhaling the past and inhaling the smoke-tainted air, letting the present wash over her. Keira’s hand falls away, fingers still warm, aching to feel the spark again.

“We should keep moving.” She spoke reluctantly, hating to break the spell that had befallen them. There is a hurricane tearing through her chest, emotions tossed about like a boat at sea. There is just too much to feel, to analyse and now is not the time. They must contact their friends. She needs to know if her father is okay and Jak must be worried about Daxter, those two are never apart. Keira can’t believe she’s just noticing Daxter’s absence. The shock of a near-death experience and the crash of adrenalin has left her frazzled and frayed. “We need to reach the tower and contact HQ to make sure everyone’s okay.”

Jak nodded stiffly, gaze drifting momentarily back towards the city. “I’m sure they’re fine.” He reassured, voice full of conviction. “Ashelin called in reinforcements right before I came to find you.”

Relief flooded Keira’s chest in a calming wave, lungs exhaling lingering fumes and anxiety. She’d been terrified for her father, scared that her friends were trapped in a burning building or gasping their last breath under a mound of rubble. Jak wouldn’t have retreated if lives were hanging in the balance and he certainly wouldn’t have parted from Daxter without knowing if he was safe. Then it struck her all of a sudden, the reveal glossed over by the relief. Jak had come looking for her, he’d braved an onslaught of KG bots and fiery death just to make sure she was safe.

“You were looking for me?” Keira’s heart stutters in her chest, caught between hope and a defiant desire to insist she would have been fine on her own. But they both know that’s not true; she’d be another corpse among the many if it weren’t for Jak’s perfect timing.

“Well, I know how stubborn you are,” he pointed out, teasing grin playing at his lips, “and it’s not much safer outside the city walls.” Jak’s tone grew stern, voice raspy and layered with an abundance of emotion.  “You should have listened to your father, Keira, you could have been killed.”

And there it is, the disapproving scold that she deserves but still resents. There is no point refuting, Jak is right, and its only fair Keira accept the consequences of her actions. She isn’t a sharpshooter or quick reflexed fighter; she may have held her own momentarily but had Jak been a second too late they wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She hangs her head, arms tightening around her middle in a poor attempt of self-comfort. “I didn’t think, I just wanted to get to you… to all of you.”

“Hey.” The tips of Jak’s fingers brush at the underside of Keira’s chin in a gentle encouragement to look up. His fingertips are calloused and cool, smelling of eco and gunpowder. “I won’t tell Samos that you were in the city.” He vowed, eyes locked with hers, stare so intense it took her breath away. “Just don’t go running into battles anymore, okay? At least not by yourself.”

“I won’t,” she promised, mouth curving into a grim smile.

“Good.” Satisfied, Jak stepped around her, continuing the climb. “You’re a pretty decent shot though,” he praised, words pulling her into motion, “when did you learn how to shoot a crossbow?”

“After you were banished.” The words are bitter and sharp in her mouth, anger flaring, stomach twisting with regret. Keira quells the churning sea with a deep breath. “It was a present from Tess, I practised every day for hours at the gun course. I just needed something to focus my anger on.”

“I know the feeling,” he murmured, “but, Keira, it wasn’t your fault.” He glances over at her, expression soft in the pale light of the moon. “I never blamed you. There was nothing you could have done.”

“I know, and that’s the worst part,” she admitted, fingers curling into fists at her sides, “but apart from that I also needed something to help me feel safe. This gives me a chance to fight.” She gestured to the bow holstered on her back. “No more damsel in distress.”

"Hey, you have never been a damsel," he declared, voice full of conviction and something else that tugged at her heartstrings, "but we're all prone to being in distress. Trust me, at this point distress is like an old friend."

Keira’s steps falter, for a moment the night feels like a fever dream of chaos and glittery sweet moments wrapped in a haze of smoke and stars. Jak hasn’t been this open with her in years. This vulnerable honesty is reminiscent of the boy he used to be. Again, she can see Jak has fundamentally changed, a sense of wisdom has sprouted within, natured by an unknown force. Or perhaps not so unknown. She’s heard him speak highly of the king of Spargus, maybe the forgotten king has restored a part of Jak that The Baron and Erol’s cruelty stole.

He’s happier, lighter, hopeful even amidst this dark time.

“You seem different.” The words leap from her tongue on their own accord, echoing the ones spoken almost two years ago, though they do not hold horror and shock. They are said in admiration, accompanied by a fond smile. “Less troubled I mean, almost a little wise.” She added, tone light-hearted and kind, making it abundantly clear that history wasn’t repeating.

"I've got a good mentor," he returned the smile, "Damas has taught me a lot, and there's something about the desert and the temples," his gaze takes on a faraway glint, eyes drifting to the silver expanse of sand that reaches out into the darkness and beyond that, Spargus. "It makes you reflect, I guess, see the important things in life." He looks back to Keira as he says this, the adoration and devotion shining in his eyes has her heart fluttering like a hummingbird trying to escape into the night to sing with joy. "I'd like to take you there someday when all of this is over."

“I’d like that.” There is a yearning growing inside, a longing to close the distance between them, to kiss Jak like she’d failed to do twice before. Now is not the time, this conversation, this renewed spark is only a steppingstone on their road back to each other. It’s a start. It’s been a steep climb to reach here, metaphorically and literal. It takes more strength than expected for Keira to break away from Jak’s gaze, it’s the third time they’ve delayed, and they really must get a move on, no matter how tempting it is to linger in this moment. 

Determined to get to the top Keira marches forward with purposeful strides, pace quickened in urgency. The sky behind them is still burning, the wind carrying smoke towards them, the only comfort is the silence. There haven’t been any explosions since they started the hike, which is either a good or a terrible sign. Keira discards such thoughts, there’s no time to give power to the fear beating in her chest. She must remain strong and focused, keep moving even though her lungs burn and legs tremble.

The earth gives way beneath her foot on the next step, wood splintering from years of neglect and exposure to the harsh elements. Keira stumbled forward; hands braced for the fall that never comes. Jak’s large hands wrapped tightly around her waist, the warmth spreading from them clashing with the cold drop of panic in her stomach. Time appears to be at a standstill, the air around her sluggish and humming, glistening like a mirage. The world is awash with blue, clarity and serenity scattering fear, calming a whirling mind and war drum heartbeat.

The sensation of tranquillity leaves her dizzy and almost giddy from the tickle of it against her skin. Then it’s gone as quickly as it came, a dream ripped away before it could be enjoyed and explored. Keira falls back into Jak’s arm, plucked right from where she should have fallen and set safely on the ground. The sudden impact of reality is jarring, anxiety and fear vivid and paralysing. The world dulled, colours swarming together in a distorting mess of misery and desolation. She feels utterly hopeless.

“Keira, hey, just breathe.”

Jak’s voice reached through the swirling madness, a gentle current carrying her back to the surface. She breaks through with a sharp inhale of air that feels like jagged spikes in her lungs, lucidity slipping in enough to create an understanding. Jak used some form of eco to slow time, the powers of which she’d never felt before, and she’d been around a lot of eco in her short life. All but one.

“New power,” Jak explained before Keira could give voice to the question. “The Precursors gifted me with light eco to balance the dark. It’s a little overwhelming until you get used to it.”

“Light eco?” she whispered, excitement creeping in, delight chasing away the strange, cold cobwebs of hopelessness. “Jak, that’s incredible! I thought light eco was lost to the world.”

“Not lost, just forgotten,” he shrugged, examining his hand in the moonlight, the tan skin and bitten-down nails caked with grim have never looked so inviting. When Jak looks up to meet her wide-eyed gaze his mouth curls into a sympathetic smile. “You feeling okay? It hits you pretty hard the first few goes.”

“Yeah, that was a little intense.” Without thinking, she took his hand, turning it over in her own. Fingertips trace over blue veins that hum with light eco. “I never realised the side-effects of something so pure could feel so… daunting.”

“It’s not always like that,” he reassured, “once I learnt to channel it the feeling went away.” Jak’s fingers close around hers, head tilted in thought. “Just, let it wash over you, the feeling will subside.”

Keira nods, speechless, this night becoming more like a dream as the second's tick by. She is curious to know if the addition of light eco has anything to do with Jak’s improved mental state. If the light eco were a gift to balance the effects of dark eco, then that would explain a lot. The dark eco had not only given Jak the ability to transform but left a lingering rage and deep-rooted depression which was made worse by his post-traumatic stress. There are so many questions dancing on the tip of her tongue, excitement and curiosity burning bright, but it will have to wait. At this rate, they’ll reach the tower by morning.

“I have so many questions,” she admitted, “which will all have to wait because the city is still very much on fire and our friends need us.”

“I think I have a faster way to the top,” he said hesitantly, “this climb is taking longer than I expected and these stairs are going to be the death one of us.”

“Yeah, probably me, the girl who can’t freeze time,” she jested, words taking on a charming tone, “alright, hero, what’s your suggestion.”

Jak responded to the flirtatious banter with a coy smile, arms folded in a show of confidence. “A short cut.”

“A short cut?”

“In a sense.” The confidence wavered, eyes flickering from her face to the ground as he took a step back. “Don’t freak out okay.”

“Why would I-”

Keira's question is cut off by a burst of blinding blue and white light. Jak's head tilts back, body levitating off the ground as a cooling light shines down on him from the air. Jak's skin turns a luminous shade of cobalt, eyes pools of pure white light, expression as serene as the eco emitting from his body. Shimmering azure tentacles fan out from his back, moving in harmony. Mesmerising and reminiscent of the ocean on a bright summer's day. He's beautiful, _breathtaking._

“Wow.” Is all Keira can say, hand reaching out to stroke the strange wings, they feel cold and bone-like despite the fluidity of them. Light eco hums in the air, the sensation like standing by a waterfall.

Jak steps forward, silent and serene. Mesmerized, Keira can only stare as Jak wraps an arm around her shivering shoulders, the other sweeping her legs out from under her. Before she could protest, Jak's wings flutter, lifting them into the air. Carrying them up, up, up. Keira held on tight, eyes closing at the rush of eco and wind, light-headed from the motion and emotional night. 

The ground was beneath her feet all too soon, the world trickling back in. Glittering stars, violet ship of impending death, worry and fear and a cool breeze slotted together. Red lights blink in the dark and the rickety shack stands before them, wooden exterior eroded by the harsh salt air. Relief and anxiety crash through Keira’s fatigued body, she rushes towards the front door, practically colliding into it in her haste. The nob is chillingly cold beneath her skin, turning with a whine and groan. Trembling, aching arms force the door inward, it scraps on the floorboards, setting her teeth on edge. A large hand appears above hers, shoving with strength not many could match.

There is a crack of resistance as the door caves, swinging in all the way to allow them admission to the damp and musty aired shack. Jak slips past her into the moonlight room, gun held ready in case there is a glint of a skull gem or flash of red eyes. It’s empty apart from the spiders and moth corpses that dangle from their webs. Keira searches the wall for a light switch, though she is doubtful there is still electricity running to this abandoned place.

Jak curses in the dark, something falls from a shelf and a crab scutters out of the shadows, scurrying off into the night. There is a flicker of a flame struggling to stay alight, illuminating a slash of Jak, who is holding a rusty old lantern. Darkness recedes, the flickering flame emitting a warmth that's a welcome relief. She takes the lamp from Jak, pivoting slowly, surveying the shadowy corners and cramped space. There isn't much to see, an old bookcase lined with a few weather-worn books, a stripped bed pushed against a wall, a cluster of unmarked boxes and a desk with a two-way radio.

Keira dashes toward it, heart beating its way to her throat, Precursors please let it work. She's only ever seen Torn's small portable two-way radio before, a boxy, heavy plastic thing that wasn't anywhere near as convenient as the comms. She regrets not familiarising herself with the technology, but it shouldn't be too difficult to use. There isn't much to it, just a few switches and dials, simple really. Hopefully. Keira flips the switch, turns a few dials, but there is only silence. Of course, they need power.

“Any luck?” Jak appears silently at her side, studying the machine.

“We need power.”

“Of course, we do,” Jak groaned, eyes roaming around the dimly lit room, “I’ll go see if there’s a generator outside.”

Keira sighs, exhaustion creeping in, her body aches right down to the bone. Absentmindedly she finds herself reaching into the side pocket of pants, fingers closing around the chain of the pocket watch her father gave to her on her 13th birthday. It’s been stuck on quarter past three since the day Daxter dropped it in the ocean, and no matter how much she tried she could never get it working again. Keira withdraws it from her pocket, the engraving on the front catching in the light of the flame, the words tugging at her heart. Through glistening eyes, she reads the message left by her father: A _lways be brave and wise but above all else, be kind_. She has failed many times to be brave and kind, has struggled to be wise, been blinded by noble tales and amber eyes.

A rumbling pulls Keira back from despair, lashes fluttering to scatter the tears, hand cradling the pocket watch close to her chest as she tries the two-way radio again. This time the switch brings life, red lights blink to life and static momentarily fills the air until Keira quickly lowers the volume. Light flickers on overhead, a single bulb dangles from the ceiling, moths instantly gathering to it, their tiny bodies making the smallest tink-tink on the glass.

“It’s on!” Keira calls out, scanning through the station. “Hello, Torn, can anybody hear us?” There is a crackle of static, outside the winds howls like a banshee, the door is caught in the gust, slamming shut. Keira startles, alone and panicked in the suddenly eerie shack. "Jak?" there is a sharp rise to her voice, mind whirling, shadows playing tricks, shifting into monsters. Keira’s grip tightens on the pocket watch the same moment she reaches for the crossbow. She aims it at the door, breath held behind chattering teeth, praying it’s Jak who walks through and not a Metal Head.

Not a ghost with golden eyes and fiery red hair.

The nob twists, the door cracks open and Jak steps inside just as a gust of wind rushes in, mother nature’s idea of dramatic timing. Keira lowers the crossbow, Jak stares at her with an arched brow, hands coming to rest on his hips in a silent sass. Even after all this time Jak still speakers louder with body language and facial expressions, whole conversations can be conveyed by a quirk of the brow or jut of the hip. There is mirth in those blue, blue eyes, a slight uptick of his lips that says he isn’t offended Keira just tried to shoot him.

She should apologise or offer a light-hearted quip, but there is guilt twisting knots in her stomach and a feeling she can’t quite identify spreading ice through her bloodstream. It cuts her strings, legs buckling, knees finally giving in, sending her collapsing ungracefully to the wooden desk chair. She feels foolish for fearing the wind, silly for anticipating something monstrous would crawl out of the night. Jak’s hands fall from his hips, in three quick strides, he is at her side, hand coming to rest comfortingly on a quivering shoulder.

“We’re safe, okay.” He reassured, motioning to the now closed door then himself. “Nothing’s getting through me.”

Keira exhales a weary sigh, strength seeping through from Jak’s touch and gentle words. “I know, I’m just a little paranoid.”

“It’s okay.” He leant against the desk, arms folded seemingly casually over his chest, but Keira could see the goosebumps scattered over his skin. “Is it working?” he nodded towards the radio.

“Oh, right, yes, well I think so.” She shot to her feet; energy renewed as determination took over. “I just to need to find the right frequency.”

“Right, well, you keep at it, and I’ll see what I can do about making sure we don’t freeze to death in the meantime.”

“I don’t think we can start a fire in here.” She glanced around the shack; all it would take is one stray spark to set this place aflame. “It was somewhat of a hideout, perhaps there are some blankets tucked away in one of the boxes.”

“Here’s hoping.” Jak’s fingers graze her arm, the touch leaves a lingering radiant warmth that has Keira’s stomach filling with butterflies.

The next few hours crawl by slowly, air filled with static and the wailing wind, the night growing colder as the hour's tick by. Keira skims from channel to channel, hears mumbled voices and faint music that sounds like it’s drifting through the speakers from another time. Jak wraps her in a blanket that smells of seawater and mildew, offers her stale nuts and dried fruit that does little to ease the ravenous hunger growing in her stomach. They are tired, hungry, cold and teetering on hopeless. As the static stretches on the fear for their friends thickened, a noose tightening around their necks. Then hope comes, a clear voice rising above the white noise, husky and familiar and full of relief.

_“Jak, Keira, do you read me, copy.”_

Jak’s eyes snap open, hand snatching up the microphone. “Torn, we read you, over.”

_“Thank the Precursors, we thought you two were dead.”_

“We’re fine,” Jak replied, “I found Keira outside the city” he spared her a wink, which brought a tired smile to her lips, “and we made our way to the shack. Is Daxter with you?”

 _“I’m right here pal!”_ booms through the speakers, making Keira wince. _“Worried and pissed I might add, but mostly glad you’re alive.”_

“Glad you’re alright, too Dax. Is everyone else okay?”

 _“We’re holding it together.”_ Came Ashelin's voice. _“We were forced to retreat and barricade ourselves in. The KG bots are loitering outside, and I can’t tell if they're waiting to strike again or waiting for further command. Either way, we’re trapped and cut off until morning._

“What about the back-up?” Jak asked, fingers tightening around the mic, voice cracking slightly in worry.

 _“They never made it,”_ she replied solemnly _"the KG bots exploded the entrance into New Haven, no one can get in or out."_

 _“There’s also an entire army outside our doors!”_ Daxter added _“we couldn’t go anywhere even if we wanted to and trust me! I’d much rather be anywhere than here.”_

 _“Just be grateful you’re alive, fleabag,”_ Torn grumbled “ _he’s right though, we’re stuck here and surrounded until further notice.”_

 _“And with all this smoke and debris it’s not safe for a rescue by air.”_ Ashelin’s voice is strained, her usual confidence shattered by the horrors of the night.

"We'll figure something out," Keira assured. "Jak and I can always use the sewer entrance to get back into the city, and once we find more ammo, we can come rescue you guys."

 _“Don’t you dare think about coming near this place, Keira!”_ Samos hollered, voice rattling through the shack like a shockwave.

"Daddy, I'll be fine." Keira insisted, taking a steadying breath to quell the irritation before continuing. "Besides, I don't have any other options, I either go with Jak or stay outside the city. There's no safer place than with Jak." She held Jak's gaze, a silent dare to question her. Without hesitation, he nodded. Jak trusted her to hold her own in a fight, knew he could rely on her for a lookout and most importantly he believed she was safest with him.

It wasn't so long ago that Jak believed he was a threat to her, had raised the walls and left Keira on the outside, a noble and heartbreaking attempt of unneeded protection. She was partly to blame, having believed, for a time, the twisted tales about the demon running rampant through the streets. Regrettably, she'd let Erol taint her view of the boy she grew up with. Something deep inside, unbroken by white lies and cruelty, rose to the surface and shattered that delusion.

Jak wasn’t a monster, wasn’t dangerous. He was safe, always had been.

Now, glistening in those ocean blue eyes, she finds nothing but complete and utter faith in himself.  Keira wants to embrace him, to curl into the warmth of his arms and celebrate this milestone. A smile breaks across her face, fear fading to the background as pride swelled warmly in her chest. Jak quirked a brow, expression showing he didn’t quite know what to make of her sudden shift in mood. It must have been contagious though because Jak’s lips curved into a subtle smile.

“ _Don’t try to reach us, there’s no point.”_ Ashelin’s words shattered the glittery moment, darkness and all its friends rushing in. “ _Jak, you need to destroy that damn floating war factory, that’s our only hope of fending off the remaining bots.”_ Her voice grows heavy, the weight of what she’s putting on Jak’s shoulders not lost on her. _“This city is as good as dead if you don’t shut it down Jak.”_

 _“We’re sorry to put this on you, my boy,”_ Samos said earnestly. _“Just, get Keira somewhere safe first, please.”_

 _“Tess is still at the Naughty Ottsel,”_ Daxter chimed in, _“she’s barricaded in as well, but if you can get through the Metal Heads, she’ll be able to help you.”_

 _“We don’t have much time, Jak,”_ Torn declared, _“how soon can you reach the war factory?”_

 _“It can wait till morning,”_ Ashelin cut in, leaving no room to argue, “ _this place is secure, and it’s been one hell of a night for all of us, I won’t have our only chance fail because he’s running on fumes.”_

“If you're sure?” Jak looked from Keira to the radio, ready to march at a change of order.

 _“Yes,”_ Samos and Ashelin answered in unison.

 _“Ashelin is right, a tired soldier is a dead soldier,”_ Samos added gruffly.

Jak rolled his eyes and Keira stifled a laugh, her father did have the flare for the dramatics, though admittedly he was right.

“I’ll see you soon, daddy.” Keira touched the speaker, eyes closing against the sting of tears.

 _“Take care of each other,”_ he ordered. _“Be safe.”_

“We will,” Jak vowed. “We’ll call before we head back to the city. Dax, you take care of everyone, okay?”

_“No problem partner, you just make it back in one piece or mostly in one piece, I’m not overly fussed.”_

"Thanks, Daxter, it's nice to know you have so much faith in me," Jak replied, an amused grin lighting up his face.

 _“Hey, I’m the reason you still have all your limps!”_ he prattled on “ _I can count five times you would be down an appendage if it weren’t for me! And another six times where’d you be very much dead.”_

“Well let’s hope luck is on my own side then.” He replied good-humouredly.

Keira shook her head, bitting back a giggle, God Daxter and his antics were quite the show. White noise fills the room, uncertainty gathering in the air like storm clouds, the survival of the city quite literally resting on their shoulders. Relief was short-lived, jostled with fear for Jak, for her friends. Gods, she is exhausted, is overwhelmed and on the verge of collapse. Jak is dead on his feet, eyes glazed and half-lidden, body rigid and humming with residual eco and anxiety.

“It must kinda suck to be the one who has to save everyone all the time.” Keira is startled by the words coming from her mouth, thoughts tumbling out from a tired mind.

Jak’s face twisted into something indecipherable, eyes shifting away to glare at an empty spot on the wall. “Someone has too.”

“Yeah, but it’s always you.” She feels tears prickle her eyes, throat tightening around bitter words. “Daddy, Ashelin and Torn are putting Haven on your shoulders, are expecting you to save this city after it left you in the wasteland to die. I could understand if you wanted to watch it burn… sometimes I wish it would.” She drops her gaze just as Jak turns back to look at her, fingers tugging anxiously at a loose thread on the blanket. “Precursors, I don’t know what I’m saying.” Around and around the thread goes, the tip of her finger turning as red as the cotton.

“Keira,” Jak sinks into her line of sight, “it’s not the city's fault, you know that. It’s Veger and the council who banished me, not the people.” Gingerly, he takes her delicate hand, unravelling the string. “This city is still worth saving and if I have to be the one who does it than I am okay with that. Samos raised me to be a hero, Damas has taught me how to be a warrior, I can win this fight, okay? Everything’s going to be alright.”

“I don’t doubt that, Jak,” she said, fingers lacing through his on their own accord, body gravitating towards his. “You’ve always been my hero, but I want you to know, in case I have expected too much from you, that you’re my friend first.”

Jak’s eyes flicker across her face, gaze glistening with a dozen unreadable emotions. Sometimes Keira doesn’t need Jak to speak, she can see what he's trying to convey by the shade of his irises. Other times the silence is indecipherable. Worry tightens her throat, she needs him to say something, anything to let her know she hasn’t said the wrong thing. _Again_. His gaze locks with hers, making her racing heart skip a beat. There is a brief flash of confidence, a starburst of courage and a 'to hell with it' grin then Jak is closing the space between them.

It's just of a brush of lips, a barely-there whisper that blows the spark from earlier into a glorious fire. Keira breathes in the sweat on Jak's skin, the smell of sea air and smoke. Counts to three then pulls him back in. Her hands find their way to his jaw, gliding around to lace a crown at the back of his neck. The kiss is both long awaited and a frantic now or never confession of love. Lips catch and teeth clank in a graceless performance. It's utterly imperfect, on the cusp of awkward, yet it's heavenly.

And possibly not the right thing to be doing while the city is under siege but screw it. The world might be ending, Metal Heads could break down the door and tear them apart before they even see the next sunrise. Keira’s heart beats wildly, lungs gulping what little air they can get when Jak’s mouth leaves hers. It’s a fraction of a second, lungs only half full before Jak is filling up her space again, head tilted at just the right angle to make their mouths fit together just right.

Graceless no more, the kiss is fierce and fervent. Jak's hands slip under the threadbare blanket, seeking skin, drawing Keira close like she'll vanish at any moment. Keira kisses back eagerly, hormones and tattered emotions running wild. She is losing herself to the haze, is sinking into desire, wanting nothing but the heat of Jak's mouth on hers and the warmth of his hands on her skin. It would be so easy to lose herself in this moment, give in to every fantasy and teenage dream, but to give themselves entirely to one another in a fit of desperation isn't right. They both deserve more than a first time in a dilapidated shack that sits on a bluff overlooking a city on the edge of ruin.

“Jak,” she eases away, inch by inch, breathing heavily, biting back a moan as Jak’s mouth finds her neck, “stop.”

Jak stills, one hand on her thigh, the other against the skin of her back. “Sorry.” He mumbled, face flushed crimson in the low-light, pupils wide and shimmering with lust and a hint of panic.

He is about to stand, retreat, raise the walls but Keira holds on, resting their forehead together. “Don’t be.” She whispered, lips finding the tip of his nose. “I want too, it’s just.” She glances around the room, understanding dawning on Jak. “Tonight’s been a whirlwind, and we deserve better than to have a frenzied romp in a place that smells of dead fish and rotten timber.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He returns the kiss, stubble tickling her tingling mouth. “And about what you said, I know you don’t expect me to be your hero,” Jak held out a hand, Keira accepted it, letting him pull her to her feet, “but I will always protect you, even if you don’t need me to.”

Keira smiled, stepping into Jak’s embrace, sighing contently as his arms wound securely around her waist. There really was no safer place to be. Outside the world was burning, but in here, with the cobwebs and the cold, damp air, there was an almost forgotten love coming back to life.

***

Keira’s eyes flutter open to a cold, bleak dawn, for a moment she is suspended in the haze of wakefulness and the glittery tendrils of a dream where she was soaring through the sky on mechanical wings. In the distance waves can be heard crashing against the shore, making it feel as though time has spun backwards, laid her down in the rickety cot that used to belong to a very different girl. Seagulls cry outside the window, almost forgotten voices echo, the cobwebs of sleep spinning another dream.

The bird lady sings out in the sun, the sculptor hums and coos at his muse, the fisherman laughs, and Jak’s uncle tells a tale of grand adventure. It’s a sweet symphony of voices, memories fluttering by like brightly coloured butterflies. Peace crests over her like the lazy waves at the shore has her smiling and reaching out to touch the feathered wings of the Flut-Flut, but it takes off, startled by storm clouds rolling in over Misty Island.

Everyone runs. The villagers scream and scurry, panic spreading like a deadly disease, air charged with fear and electricity as fork lightning splits the sky apart. Keira gives chases, tries to hold onto the threads of happiness and carefree days, but the brightly coloured world is ripped away, replaced with dark thundering skies and a desolate city that smoulders and smells of death. There is a familiar chuckle creeping in from the shadows, settling on her skin like a layer of frost.

A seagull screeches from close by, the sound jolting Keira back to the waking world, which isn't any less bleak than the nightmare one. Her ragged breath plumes in the frigid air, heart pounding furiously at her ribs in a desperate need to escape. Arms tighten around her waist, a body presses against the length of her back, radiating heat that feels stifling in her post fevered state. The events of last night come back in fragments, a beautiful sunset, her fathers panicked voice, streets stained red, death staring her down, the city burning.

She scrunches her eyes shut, shoving the gruesome images into a box, which is labelled Do Not Open and locked it in a chest that is buried deep. The body behind her stirs, a restless shuffle of legs that jostle against hers. Panic evaporates, rushing out in a shaky breath, pleasant memories emerging from the carnage. Warmth scatters the chill left by the disconcerting dream, lips tingling as Keira replays the kiss, watching it unfold like a projection from an old film reel.

Last night was both beautiful and bloody, a violent start concluding with a delightful end. The morning suddenly appears glittery, the air blessed with a touch of magic. Keira feels light and magnificent. It’s a fleeting feeling, gone with the howl of the wind and crushing weight of what lay ahead of them. Keira longs to stay in this moment, wishes the world would just disappear, let her have a few more hours in this almost perfect moment.

But nothing is perfect or shiny, last night’s kiss didn’t undo the damage or erase the wounds left by sharp words and cutting betrayals. Still, Jak and Keira are closer than they have been since the sun-drenched days back in Sandover and ruining it now would be the greatest of tragedies. There is a fire burning once more and perhaps this time, now they are older and wiser, they can hold on to what they have. Keira won’t give up on this love, not again; instead, she will nurture it, give it the attention it needs to grow.

She’ll cherish her hero, stay steadfast by his side.

Until fate tears them apart.

Dread knots in her stomach, bringing tears to her eyes, the thought of having to part with Jak is both infuriating and heartbreaking. Over and over the universe pulls them apart, steering Jak into danger and forcing Keira to be a helpless bystander. Well, not this time. Screw the universe, screw this war and all the people and obstacles that kept tearing them apart. Jak wasn’t going to face whatever lay in wait in the war factor – be it Erol or Veger – by himself.

She was going with him. 

She would fight for him. Fight _with_ him.

She’d just have to figure out how to convince Jak to let her. That could wait, there was still a war-torn city standing between them and their destination, not to mention a Metal Head infested sewer. One battle at a time. Keira would love to sleep a little longer, enjoy the warmth of Jak’s embrace until the sun rose high in the sky, but time is of the essence. She’ll cherish the memory of their first kiss, treasure the moments before sleep, where hushed whispers filled the night air, and bodies curled close. As Keira drifted off, head pillowed on Jak’s chest, listing to the steady beat of his heart, a faded memory resurfaced.

There’s a sky full of fireworks, vivid colours lighting up the night, reflecting in calm surface of the water. Daxter’s garishly statue stands proud on top of the Naughty Ottsel, the streets echo with celebration, the people liberated at last from Baron Praxis and The Metal Heads. Keira had watched the display with wonder, warmth and joy blossoming in her chest for the first time in two years. Jak stayed by her side most of the evening, blushing whenever she caught his eyes, their almost kiss playing on their minds.

The joy mixed with one too many glasses of champion made her heady and giddy, she flirted with Jak, danced with Tess and laughed at Daxter’s silly tall tales. For that night everything was blissful and bright, the pain of the past numbed by the alcohol and chased away by the sheer happiness of having her father and friends back. At some point, after her father already left, and she was dizzy from spinning and struggling to keep her eyes open Jak offered to walk her home.

She doesn’t remember much of the walk back to the stadium, it’s snapshots of moments that spin multi-coloured like a kaleidoscope. Jak was sober, quiet, ocean blue eyes flickered between the shadows and her face. He smiled, steadied her when her drunken feet nearly sent her toppling. He smelt like sea air and the earth after it rains, the scents tore open a chasm of longing in Keira’s chest. Sobriety hit her fall force, world righting and losing its magical shine. The night was no longer glittery and twirling, her stomach rolled and revolted.

Things blur and skip, the next thing she can recall is arriving home, leaning against the door jamb to keep her heavy limbs from slipping to the grand. Jak said goodnight and promised to visit in the morning, brushed a strand of her from her eyes then disappeared into the night. In the split second Jak's warm fingers traced over Keira's skin, she thought about asking him to stay, thought about inviting him in to fill the empty space in her bed, in her heart, considered being reckless and dragging him in for a kiss that would lead to something more.

She used to regret not asking him to stay, thought if she did then maybe, just maybe they wouldn’t have drifted apart. Now Keira’s glad she made that choice, they weren’t ready that night, she was drunk on cheap champion and Jak was barely holding it together, it was evident in the brittle smile, the troubled look in his eyes. Their wounds were too fresh and the trauma too raw. Things would be different this time, not all at once, there was no band-aid fix for them, but there was, at last, a spark of hope.

Returning to the present, Keira tucks the memory away and attempts to roll over, though it’s made difficult by Jak’s locked embrace, arm heavy and reluctant to let go. Eventually, she wiggles free, turning over to face Jak. In the low light of the morning, in the sweet surrender of sleep, he looks at peace. There are no harsh lines of worry, forehead smooth and mouth quirked into the faintest smile like he’s having a pleasant dream.

It would be a shame to wake him, to pull him from a peaceful slumber and haul him back to this world of monsters and wicked men. Keira sighed, worry plucking at the corner of her mind. If she woke Jak would the unfamiliar environment cause him to panic? Would he merely stir awake with a lazy smile and bleary eyes? Her instincts say no, even if she gently prodded Jak awake, he could still react violently. She'd seen him lash out in his sleep before, knew nightmares plagued him.

There isn’t time to let Jak slumber, the sun is creeping higher and every second matters. Carefully, quietly, Keira untangles herself from the covers, crawling down the cot to slip out the end. Moving on silent feet to the window Keira unlatches the shutters, opening them to let the morning light pool in. It baths Jak in its golden glow, filling the room with a pleasant warmth, scattering the shadows. Jak stirs, twitching as Keira lets more light into the room, waiting anxiously to see if this will work.

Jak groans, tossing restlessly under the covers before rolling towards the light, one eye opening in a narrow slit. A moth flutters to the window, the lone survivor of the night, tapping against the dirty glass in a frantic attempt to escape. Keira’s heart aches for it, she cracks open the window to let the creature free, it darts out, tiny, fragile wings beating furiously as it flies away. She shuts the window, cutting out the chill, then turns back to Jak, who’s sitting slouched over in bed, knees drawn to his chest and arms laid casually on them, lips curling into that charming smile of his.

“What?” she demanded, arms folding over her chest challengingly, “the spiders would have gotten it.”

Jak shakes his head, still smiling, and Keira realises she hasn’t seen him smile this much in a very long time. He is almost relaxed, happy if she dares say it. It’s short-lived, the calm blues of his eyes shift into the navy of a churning sea, the warrior is there in the rigid set of shoulders and deep set of his brows. The blankets fall away, and Jak moves quickly, reaching for his boots and armour. Keira jumps to action, collecting her own shoes and other belongings.

They don’t speak as they dress, holstering weapons and recounting dwindling ammo. Between them, there might be enough to kill two dozen Metal Heads, how many await them in the sewer though is a mystery. There could be hundreds or maybe only a handful, either way, it’s a risk. Fear strummed beneath Keira’s skin, nervous fingers drumming an irregular rhythm against her thigh, itching to wrap around a wrench or spanner.

“Keira,” Jak’s strong hands find hers, a cooling, pulsating sensation seeping through the touch, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Keira deflated, fear ebbing to background noise. “Did you just use light eco on me?”

“A little.” He admits, averting his gaze sheepishly. “Just enough to take the edge off without the side effect. Sorry, I should have asked.”

“No, it’s fine, I needed that,” she reassured, bringing their joined hands to her mouth, pressing a kiss to Jak’s scarred knuckles. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He held her gaze, eyes light and shimmering.

Riding on a wave of courage, carried by the newly ignited sparks, Keira laces her arms around his neck, rising on tip-toes. Jak met her halfway, arms twining around her waist as their lips meet. Keira sighs into the kiss, entire body melting in Jak’s embrace, heart humming in delight. Joy swells in her chest, silk petals bloom in the spaces between her ribs, head filling with fireworks and memories of sun-drenched days and star gazing nights.

Kissing Jak feels like coming home, like the first breathe of air after spending too long under water. The golden haze of the morning makes them languid, hands roaming lazily, spreading flames where ever they go. They capsize in the heat of the moment, bottled emotions and hormones taking over. A burst of static, a crackle of words spoken in a gravelly have Keira startling. Heat crawls up her neck, turning already flushed cheeks bright red. She pulls away, forgetting for that split second Torn can’t see them through the radio. There is a hint of copper on her tongue, butterflies in her stomach and songbirds in her chest.

_“Jak, Keira, come in, copy.”_

“We’re here, Torn,” came Jak’s gruff reply, “was just about to call.”

 _“Yeah, I can believe that!”_ Daxter’s voice screeched through the speakers. _“All alone in a cold, secluded shack, I can only imagine what mischief you two were getting up to.”_

Keira’s cheeks burn impossibly hot at Daxter’s words, praying to the Precursors that her father isn’t in the room with them. Jak glares at the radio, unimpressed by Daxter’s commentary, though his cheeks are coloured a pale shade of pink. Mercifully Torn saves them from the awkwardness and the flustered teenager slips away, Jak’s face hardening, body stiffening as shoulders push back and chin tilts up in attention.

There is a striking difference between the seasoned warrior and the charming young man she'd just kissed. He is hard lines and sharp edges, almost rigid, but Jak's always been too expressive and fidgety to remain completely motionless. It dawns on Keira that last night's display of affection was an incredibly rare and vulnerable side of Jak that most would never get to see. The walls surrounding Jak's heart aren't there just for safe keeping, he wears his scowl and devil may care grin as armour, speaks with bite and gravel, words cold and short to keep people at bay.

And Keira wasn’t just allowed in, she was invited, drawn in by Jak’s arms and tender kiss.

 _“Jinx and some men are on currently trying to repair the comm tower.”_ Torn’s words snapped Keira back to the present. _“Once he’s done there, he’ll meet you at the Naughty Ottsel with a hellcat to take you the war factory. There’s a two-way radio still there from when Krew ran the place, so we were able to give her heads up, she’s got ammo and a gun upgrade waiting for you Jak.”_

“Great, we’ll head out now, and hopefully we won’t have too much trouble in the sewers.”

 _“You’ll be fine, buddy!”_ Daxter reassured, _“we’ve faced worst.”_

Something in Daxter’s tone soothed the glass winged butterflies in Keira’s stomach, lips curling into a fond smile, thankful for her friend’s optimism. Glancing back towards Jak, she noticed a glimmer of red collecting on his bottom lip, which he smeared away, seemingly unbothered by it. Her tooth must have caught his lip when she startled, she feels a little guilty for causing Jak harm, but the wound is already gone. Lured by curiosity, half believing it just to be a trick of the light, Keira reaches out to touch Jak’s lip, finding only smooth, slightly damp skin.

He takes her hand, holding it against his mouth, lips curling into a smile that can be felt on her skin, seen in the blue of his eyes. There is happiness shimmering beneath the surface, matching the joy that is blossoming in her chest. Their love had burst back to life in the cover of darkness, the fire rekindled, and this time it couldn’t be extinguished by time, distance or even the Precursors themselves. Jak isn’t walking away again, she felt it in his kiss, can see it in his eyes. Keira is done having her heart under lock and key, is finished with hiding the feelings she’s harboured for as long as her memory stretches back.

Their love might not be perfect, Jak is jaded and haunted, she is flawed and stubborn, and they are both hurt and changed by their pasts, but their jagged edges still slot together just right. Time and distance, though painful, has been the best thing for them, it’s allowed them to break apart and come together again. They had to learn to stand on their own before they could stand together.

And that time has finally come.

**~~X~~**

Keira gags as the elevator door rolls open, the smell of putrid water and Metal Head’s turning her empty stomach. Jak appears unaffected, no doubt used to the foul odour after spending so much time down here. Gun held at the read, Jak scans the dimly lit passageway, edging forward until he steps on the motion sensor, fluorescent light scattering the shadows, revealing a clear path. For now, at least. Haven’s sewers are teaming with monsters and murderous machines, scattered with lost treasure and hidden lairs. Before the Metal Head and sewer gators moved in it was the hot spot to deal drugs and participate in illegal activity.

Many rumours swirled about the city, whispers of underground fight clubs and a secret brothel that would fulfil your every desire. It's a dark and repulsive place hiding horrible secrets and sinful acts. The path Keira and Jak take looks nothing like a den of iniquity, there is no glint of gold or wink of silver to be seen. There's nothing but the reeking smell of waste and moan of pipes, the occasional splash as a gator slinks into the murky water.

Keira is uncertain if now would be the right time to inform Jak of her decision to accompany him to the war factory. She's confident he's going to insist she stay with Tess, will have a thousand valid reasons why she should. The argument has played over a dozen times in her head, yet Keira can't see the outcome, it's a blurry image sitting just out of reach, giving her hope, drowning her in fear. If Jak says no if she can't convince him then where does that leave them?

Does she stay behind, angry and gut twisting with resentment, mind curling around familiar thoughts. Not good enough to stand by Jak's side in battle, not strong enough to hold her own in a fight, never enough, never more than little miss fix it. The voice of reason would arrive to soothe the wounds, calm the fury, scolding her for being so foolish. Even without asking the question, Keira knows deep down Jak would only refuse to keep her safe.

But he could say yes, and they could march onto the battle and come out victorious, or they could perish. Death is very much a possible outcome, and that realisation sits like a cold stone at the base of her throat, has her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach. Keira steels herself against the swell of emotion, arms wrapping tightly around her mid-drift. She is terrified of what could be lurking in the depths of the war factory, has this prickly feeling she knows it’s Erol who’ll be awaiting Jak.

And if Keira’s right, then there is no way in hell she’s going to let Jak face _him_ alone.

She owes it to Jak, owes it to herself, to the foolish girl who was swayed by that crooked smile.

“Jak?” she casts a nervous glance around the narrow passageway, finding only moss-covered walls and muck covered grated floors. “When you go to the war factory, I think…” The words fumble on her tongue, uncertainty and nerves making them stick together. “I think I should come with you.”

Jak comes to an abrupt halt, whirling around to face her, looking exactly like she imagined, alarmed, irritated, scared. Feet plant firmly on the ground, shoulders pushed back, and head held high, Keira braces for an argument. No, not an argument, she isn’t going to let anger get the better of her, no matter how much it boils and quivers beneath her skin. She is going to explain why this is so important, because it is, and it’s not just about them. Keira’s not trying to prove that she can fight and kill, she’s not trying to be a hero. She knows her worth, knows there is a place at Jak’s side regardless if she follows him into battle.

This crazy, possibly suicide mission is for her, is about closure and retribution. Keira wants to fight for every time she was too afraid too, wants to look Erol in the eye and show him that he didn’t win. He can try to destroy the world, throw his stones and insults, tell lies with that sharp tongue of his, but he’ll never succeed in tearing her or _them_ apart. Jak’s heated gaze is intense upon her clammy skin, eyes searching hers, finding reason and understanding reflecting in emerald depths.

“Okay.”

The single word hangs in the air like storm clouds after months of drought, have Keira’s lungs squeezing around relief and surprise laced with sharp bursts of fear. Jak’s eyes are a hurricane of emotion, lips pressed into a grim line of defeat that curls into a fleeting smile of acceptance, expression reading more like a soldier offering a comrade a bittersweet welcome. This is not how any of her visions played out, even with an unclear ending she couldn’t have foreseen this outcome. They’ve been at odds for so long that it feels foreign to be on the same page again, strange to have Jak understand everything she is trying to say with just a glance.

Last night there was a shift, chasm closing, placing them on solid ground. The stares have realigned, any lingering uncertainties have been chased away, their future no longer unclear. There’s no time to kiss or celebrate, no words that could express everything Keira is feeling. Instead, she takes Jak’s hand, a silent vow to stay by his side, _unwavering_ , fingers lacing through his in a declaration of love that has been a long time coming.

**~~X~~**

To say Keira is relieved when they reach the Naughty Ottsel is an understatement. The obnoxiously decorated bar has never been such a welcome sight, it's dull brown walls luminous compared to the cold steel grey of the sewer, pungent smell of beer and old timber heavenly to her nose. Keira's skin crawls with the memory of the first time she walked into the place, tip-toeing towards the hulking bodyguard she'd quickly learn was a kind soul. Krew, on the other hand, was loathsome, a distrustful, repulsive excuse for a human, who fed upon the weak and vulnerable.

Keira had hoped Krew might have information that could help her find Jak, Daxter and her father, surely the cities top crime boss would know if a yellow-haired boy and a talking orange creature were running about the place. It was desperation that sent Keira here, the rumours circling the Hip-Hog Haven Sloane had kept her at bay for this long, but with weeks turning months and no sign of her friends or father she had no other choice to make. It was a risk she was willing to make, and one that almost didn't pay off.

Krew thought she could make money for him in an entirely different manner. Appalled and terrified at the proposal she’d rattled off every other way she could bring in money. Krew listened with disinterest mind seemingly already made up. Keira was on the verge of tears; voice shrill in growing panic. She wasn’t above begging, had gotten used to pleading to the goodwill of others in her five months of wondering the streets in search of a familiar face and a safe place to sleep.

In the end, it was Sig who took pity on her, convincing Krew to give her a chance. A few days later she had a job at the stadium, a week after that she met Tess when Krew sent her there with a package. She could never truly escape the vile man, he lingered just out of sight, a silent threat promising that if she disobeyed or screwed up, he'd snatch away everything he'd given to her. Time hasn't erased the ugliness of the saloon, not even Daxter's attempt to spice it up could shift the energy.

Krew is long dead, the city didn’t hold a vigil or mourn for the crime boss, the city rejoiced in his sudden death, glad to be rid yet another monster. Keira leans into Jak's warmth, taking comfort in the warmth of his skin. Gods, she'd give anything to curl up in one of the booths with Jak, let the day pass them by, maybe talk about last night, work out where they go from here. Are they, after being separated and reunited twice, finally together? Is it their time yet, is this where their paths finally merge?

Now is not the time to question what the Precursors have installed for them. As much as Keira longs to know there are far more critical things to focus on. The city is still under siege, streets overwhelmed by chaos and carnage. They emerged from the sewer to find the industrial sector under heavy assault, the walk here was far more perilous than the trek through the sewers.  The Freedom League is fighting a losing battle, and Jak and Keira don't succeed in destroying the war factory, then Haven might finally fall.

"There you two are." Tess's appears, bright-eyed and all smiles, from the gloom of the back room, rushing towards them eagerly, embracing Keira in a tight hug. "I was getting worried."

Keira clung to her, shaky breath escaping past chapped lips in a relieved sigh, never had she needed a hug from her best more. Keira spent most of her life running after Jak and Daxter, the third wheel to their fearsome duo, and since the other children thought her peculiar, she’d never really had a friend to call her own, to share secrets with and bond over gadgets. From afar Tess appeared air-headed and helpless, a sweet girl with a musical giggle and an innocent smile. It was a façade worn like armour, a disguise that helped her pry secrets from drunken men’s tongues. Foolish them for believing that delicate creatures can’t bite. 

Tess was the first girl who matched Keira's ingenuity and integrity, who liked pulling apart weapons to see how they worked, then piecing them back together as something better. Their friendship formed fast and strong, bond forging over days spent fixing zoomers and nights hanging out in the Underground. Tess’s bright light filled Keira with hope, her kind heart keeping the darkness at bay. For the first time, Keira understood what Jak and Daxter shared. Jak may be the love of her life, but Tess was her best friend, the one who always knew precisely what to say to cheer her up, who taught her how to be strong in a world full of wicked hearts and dangerous minds

“You can’t keep us down.” She leant back, holding Tess at arm’s length. “I’m glad you’re okay, it’s getting crazy out there.”

“Don’t worry about me, Krew has a bunker below stocked with enough food for years.” Her pale blue eyes flicker from hers to Jak’s, nose crinkling. “You guys look awful, no offence, of course. Maybe you two should clean up while you have the chance?” she suggested, plucking a stray piece of shrapnel from Keira’s hair. “Jinx is roughly forty minutes away, he just called to let me know the comm tower is up and running.”

"I'll take you up on that offer after Tess," Jak replied, edging towards the communications table that stood in the centre of the room where the wrestling pit once stood. "I should contact Dax and let him know I'm here in one piece."

“Alright, you know the way around.” Tess took Keira by the elbow, tugging her towards the back room. “Tell Daxxie I’m looking after you, okay?”

Jak’s eyes shot open comically wide, looking to Keira for help, she just shrugged, smiling apologetically before following Tess. Keira was honestly hoping to spend the entirety of her life blissfully unaware of what horrors Krew had locked away in the forbidden parts of the bar, but war demands sacrifice and a change of clothes would be heavenly. Tess leads her through the overcrowded storage room through an open panel in the wall that leads to a narrow-carpeted hallway.

Keira’s nose wrinkles at the musty smell, the floor is uneven and worn beneath her dirty boots. She’s certain Krew would hate that she’s soiling his ugly plush carpet. Tess opens the first door on the right, revealing a cramped, dimly lit room. The bed is made neatly with a forest green blanket and decorated with sunflower cushions, books are lined neatly on the cherry wood desk, one has been left lying open, next to a canary yellow mug that holds the remains of cold coffee.

Tess has made herself a sanctuary in the depths of the Ottsel, added colour and life to this otherwise cold and dark space. There are fresh tulips on the windowsill, clean clothes folded on the bed and a scented candle burning on the nightstand. An ache grips at Keira's heart, she misses her cluttered apartment, it was much, but it had been her home for a time. She'd filled it with tools and plants stolen from gardens, covered the soured cream walls in sketches of inventions. Memories drawn on cheap paper, tacked over cracks, miserable attempts of recreating the real thing. She'd lost everything when the palace came down, her home, the few belongings she collected over the past two years, the gadgets she’d built, all of it gone, crushed beneath mounds of concrete and glass.

Not long after the universe took Jak, sent him to a place where she could not reach.

Tears sting at tired eyes, leave tracks on her grim covered cheeks. Quickly she smears them away, swallowing thickly to dislodge the lump that feels like a cold stone pressing into her windpipe. Tess wraps a comforting arm around her waist, Keira deflates, head dropping to rest on her shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, voice a gentle whisper in the quiet room.

“I’m going with Jak,” she says instead of the hundreds of other things that are jostling through her mind. “I know it’s crazy and dangerous, but I have too.” She lifts her head, an uneasy sensation making her restless, pull away from Tess. “I am absolutely terrified.” The confession breaks free, turns Keira’s skin cold then hot, stomach somersaulting like she’s on the fishermen’s tiny boat in the churning sea. “I don’t know how Jak and Daxter do this.”

"They're brave," Tess said like it was that simple, "and so are you. I've seen you chase of handsy racers and scare off Krimson guards like it was nothing." She takes her hands, fingers as calloused and scarred as her own. "You can do this, Keira!” she declared, voice full of conviction. “I believe in you as much as I believe in our boys. Heck, I'd come along if I didn't have to help Jinx get the blast bot to HQ. You're just going to have to trust me.” She leant forward, forehead resting momentarily against hers. “You and Jak have got this.”

Tess’s words slash at the fear, cutting into ribbons, courage sparking in its wake, bursting through her like sunlight. “Thank you.” Keira bows her head, standing strong in the power that courses through her veins, awakening a fierce warrior. “If my father calls, don’t tell him where I went, he’ll only worry.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him your resting.”

“I owe you.”

"Take out the war factory, and we're even." She winked, smiling brightly. "Now, I think you need a change of clothes." Tess's light blue eyes travelled over wet and muddy clothing, smile shifting into a mischievous grin. "Something fierce and sexy, but practical of course."

A trickle of laughter escaped from Keira’s lips. She was cold, exhausted and about to embark on a mission that could very well be the last thing she ever did, and Tess was making sure she walked onto the battlefield dressed to impress.

“Deal.” She returned the grin, gaze drifting to the wardrobe. Clothes aren’t going to turn her into the perfect soldier, nor does it matter what she wears, but her outfit is ill-fitting for the battle. “Alright, let's pick something then we need to restock Jak’s ammunition, and I’m out of bolts.”

“I’ve got you covered,” Tess reassured. “Trust me, you two are going to be just fine, I know it.”

Tess’s words have sparked courage, ignited hope, her unwavering faith so strong Keira could almost believe that everything would be alright, but the city could still fall. She wasn’t going down without a fight, and neither was Jak. If they failed, if this crazy, beautiful world came down in flames then at least she knew what it was like to have true friends. At least she knew what it was like to have lived, created, thrived and experienced a love so grand it felt fated by the Precursors themselves.

**~~X~~**

Keira's standing under a darkening sky, nervous fingers tugging at the hem of the clean shirt borrowed from Tess. The high neck top is a shade darker then Jak's tunic, the fabric soft and stretchy, more accustomed to an Autumns’ day then battle. The pants Tess dug out from the seemingly bottomless pit in her wardrobe are more durable, the material stiff and unworn. Keira doesn't look like herself in this dark ensemble, felt a little like an imposter until she put on her suspenders, slipped on her goggles and bucked up her boots.

The only splash of colour is the pink choker around her pale throat, a pair of purple fingerless gloves and the tattered remains of Jak’s red scarf, which has been turned into a headband. The crossbow is fastened to her back, extra bolts strapped to her thigh and a shiny silver bracelet wraps like a snake around her right wrist. A mighty weapon hidden in plain sight. Tess rummaged through some drawers and found a silver-plated shoulder pad and a dagger to add to her arsenal.

The second Jak laid eyes on Keira he let out a wolfish whistle, eyes travelling over her like flames. Jak rarely let his flirtatious side out to play, it left Keira blushing and ducking her gaze to avoid Tess's satisfied smile. Apparently, her choice in attire wasn't entirely about being battle appropriate. The moment was sadly over all too soon, Tess cleared her throat and steered Jak towards the back of the bar, ordering him to clean up quickly so he could eat before Jinx arrived.

Punctual as always, the tattered, blond-haired man arrived thirty-five minutes later with a bullet-riddled Hellcat and boasting about the epic capturing of a blast bot. He explained that he’d rigged it with explosives and planned to use it to clear away the debris that had sealed off New Haven. Keira and Jak can’t spare any time assisting Tess and Jinx in this endeavour, the sun is already crawling towards its highest peak, and the weapons factory chugs away, churning out killer machine after killer machine.

It floats above the city like a cluster of storm clouds, suspended above the heart of Haven, imposing and monstrous. A threat hanging above their heads every day, just like the violet star. Anger ignites in Keira’s veins, rising with the courage, scattering any lingering threads of fear. The people of Haven have suffered enough, have lived through years of torment, known nothing but fear and desperation. They deserve peace. They deserve to have homes with gardens overgrown with weeds and sweet-smelling flowers. Children deserve to play in the streets and explore the wonders of the forest while their parents watch on from picnic rugs.

The world will still be in danger after today, the war not yet one, but Keira’s going to make damn sure no more monsters loom above this city. Filled with fire, she walks towards the hellcat that’s seen better days, stopping to give the engine a quick once over. It’s purring smoothly, scraped paint and singed side panels the only visible damage. Satisfied it’s not going to fall out of the sky, Keira turns to face Jak. He hasn’t said much in the last half-hour, which isn’t unusual, but the furrow of his brow, the shade of his iris’s say more than words could.

He’s worried, not for himself, Jak is too confident in his own abilities for that. The concern is for her. It’s both touching and frustrating. Keira has proven that she can handle a weapon and stay calm in a crisis, Jak’s praised her skill and looked upon her with admiration and respect. The realisation hits Keira as fast as the breeze whipping about the roof of the Naughty Ottsel. The look in Jak's eyes, the tense set of his jaw and nervous fidget is driven by a fear far greater than that of concern of fighting beside an untrained comrade.

Jak is afraid of losing her and Keira could slay a thousand men and monsters right before his eyes, but that fear would not be erased. It's the same fear that stirs awake within her every time Jak strides off into battle. It doesn't matter that Jak is damn near unstoppable, that he's nimble and quick, a seasoned warrior. They've been torn apart before, and that wound bleeds in the cold light of day, making lungs tighten around smoke-filled air.

“We’re going to be okay,” she vowed, daring the Precursors to challenge her. “Trust me, _we’re_ going to be okay, Jak.”

The tension drains from his shoulders, forehead smoothing as lips curl into a half-hearted smile. “Your father is going to kill me,” Jak stated, tone grave and serious but there was a playful light in his eyes, the smallest glimmer in the otherwise churning sea. “No, it’s going to be worse than that.”

Keira rolled her eyes, biting back a smirk. “Don’t worry Jak, I won’t let him hurt you.”

“Thanks.” Jak’s face tilts towards the sun, lips parting to set free a weary sigh. “My God I can’t believe I’m allowing this.”

"Jak, I didn't ask for your permission," Keira reaches for him, hands cupping the sharp lines of his jawline. "If anything happens…" the words tighten in her throat, cold fear descending over her, plucking free terrifying, blood-soaked images of a dozen horrible deaths. "Don't blame yourself." She swallows the sharp glass, voice growing steady. "I'm choosing to do this for me. I know the risk I'm taking; I know how dangerous this mission will be." The hurricane unfolds in Jak's eyes, protest teetering on the tip of his tongue. "Don't ever blame yourself, okay?" She silences him, hating the turmoil that shimmers in those beautiful blue eyes that have seen far too many horrors. "Promise me?"

Jak takes hold of her hands, grip borderline painful, air charged with a frantic edge. “I won’t let harm come to you.” There is so much certainty, so much _power_ in Jak’s voice that it shakes the roof beneath their feet, sending a tremble deep down into the very core of the earth. Jak’s words defy the stars, bend fate and control every essence of the universe. This is a vow that no God could break. Dark eco skitters across tan skin like bolts of lightning, eyes flickering black as night. Jak breathes out, storm blowing away on the autumn winds. “We should go.”

Voice stolen by the intensity of the moment, Keira can only nod. Jak gives her one last lingering look, fingers slipping free of hers as he tears himself away. Keira stares a moment too long at the empty space, heart thundering. A light touch startles her back to reality, she turns around to find Tess. It’s time to go. Keira embraces Tess in a crushing hug, thanks her again for the clothes and the food that filled a cavernous hole in her stomach. Tess wishes her luck but doesn’t say goodbye, so sure she’ll see Keira again before days end. Keira parts with high hopes, marching forward with shoulders back, head held high and heart still thundering in her chest.

**~~X~~**

The war factory is a frightening fortress of red steel and death.  KG fighter jets swarm in the sky, the sides are lined with guns, and each corner is equipped with a window mill shaped turret. Jak weaves through the missiles and towers, shooting down fighter jets and taking out the turrets with skilled precision. Keira takes out any fighter jets that stray too close, but eventually her vision swims, colours blurring together as waves of dizziness crash over her. There’s no grace to Jak’s flying today, it’s a bumpy, wild ride that has Keira gripping to the seat, body coiled tight, teeth gritted against the churning of her stomach.

Fear strums just below the surface, an uncomfortable buzz in the background that left unchecked could swell and consume. Panicking is no longer an option, fear is ripped out thrown to the wind, exhaled in deep breaths that do little ease the nausea. Once they land, and there is solid ground beneath Keira’s feet, she can breathe again, sickness ebbing as the world rights itself. She takes a moment to survey the hanger, it’s eerily quiet, the air thick with the scent of eco and fuel.

“You okay?” Jak asked, placing a comforting hand on the small of her back. “That wasn’t my best flying.”

“I don't know if you noticed, Jak but we were getting shot at.” It feels nice to joke even while they stand in the jaws of death, the light banter new and yet familiar. “A lot.”

“That’s a fair point.”

Freed of the last tendrils of dizziness, Keira straightens, hands coming to rest on her hips as she wrestles with the stubborn remnants fear. "Let's do this, shall we?” she says, forcing a confident grin that feels brittle, but it must do the trick because Jak flashes her his patented ‘I’ve got this’ smirk.

Experience allows Jak to slip so effortlessly into the fearless warrior, Keira fumbles with the courage, grasping it with both hands, hoping it won't leave. Keira shakes away the insecurities, last night she ran into the heart of a battle, slayed death bots and Metal Head’s at Jak’s side, there is no need for doubt. Her aim is steady, hands strong from years’ worth of lifting heavy scraps of metal, fingers nimble from building and creating.

Ashelin taught her how to throw a punch and kick the legs out from someone twice her size, Tess showed her how to use daggers and exactly where to stab to do the most damage. Keira was not only capable of winning a fight but was loaded with some of the best weapons a girl could ask for. A quickfire crossbow, a sharp silver dagger, a deadly whip disguised as a pretty bracelet. The death bots didn’t stand a chance against her. Courage blazed through her, fragile smile shifting into a confident grin, the perfect match to Jak's.

She’s ready for a fight.

**~~X~~**

It takes nearly two agonising hours to fight their way through the factory, bullets rain and enemies come in droves. The air smells of gasoline, and acrid eco, mechanical cries ricochet with the bullets, deafening and maddening. Sweat beads on Keira's brow, fingers trembling and close to bleeding as she fires off bolt after bolt. There is nothing glamorous about the battlefield, it's violent and gritty, is a death-defying dance; steps quick and dizzying. By the time she and Jak near the control room her clothes are torn and stained red, skin blossoming bruises and coated in a layer of grim.

Adrenaline fuels her aching body, limbs moving automatically, carrying her into a large circular room. Keira takes in the empty space with unease, stomach knotting as her gaze slips to the glass titled floor, far below is Haven City, ruined and smouldering. Fear crawls out of the box, flooding her bloodstream with ice, sending a shiver from the soles of her feet to the tips of her ears. Jak’s tense and alert at her side, fingers coiled tightly around the blaster, eyes roaming the open space with a fearful glint.

Jak stiffens, lips twisting into an angry snarl, eyes darkening to a violent ocean storm. Keira follows his line of sight with a hammering heart, gaze drifting up, up, up to the observation deck. For a moment her mind scrambles to make sense of what she is seeing. The eyes are familiar, the tuff of red hair as bright as she remembered, but the rest of this strange and terrifying _thing_ is made of sharp lines of blue titanium and bulking red Krimson armour.

What remains of Erol is so minuscule that on first glance it’s nearly overlooked. There is a human hand attached to a robotic arm, there are amber eyes that glint with violent delight and half a human face that is scarred and burnt. Erol’s lips curl into a wicked smile, a chasm of fear opens within Keira, stomach churning in revulsion. What did she ever see in this monster? It’s so clear to her now that Erol is nothing but dangerous and cruel. She was a doll for him to play with, a pretty thing to parade around town and show off like she’d been won in a bet. 

Anger burns brighter than the fear, memories of the man she thought she knew perishing in the flames. An unseen force whispers to her, guiding her forward until she is planted firmly between Erol and Jak. The pain and torment he put Jak through is unforgivable. Her hatred for _him_ is overwhelming, it crackles likes lightning across her skin, boils in her blood. Ending him right here, right now is so very tempting, but if anyone gets to kill the bastard, it should be Jak. 

“Well, well if it isn’t my pretty playthings.” Erol’s voice prickles at her skin, words adding fuel to the swelling rage.

“Screw you, Erol!” Keira hissed, reflexively reaching for the crossbow, aiming it with a steady hand at Erol’s warped face.

“Oh, I’m afraid we don’t have time,” he chuckled, golden eyes glinting with madness, “I do have a world to destroy after all.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Jak stepped around Keira, quivering in a quiet rage. “You’ve hurt enough people Erol, this ends now.”

“So brave, so fierce,” Erol taunts, mechanical voice sickly sweet. “Jak and Keira out to defeat the big bad wolf and save the world from the Dark Makers, how romantic.” With one swift motion, Erol leaps into the air, landing before them with such force a few tiles shatter, raining jagged shards on the city below. “It’s a shame you two won’t live long enough to get your happy ending.” Erol reaches for Jak with metal claws that graze almost tenderly over his cheek.

Keira seethes, shoving the crossbow right under Erol’s nose in a reckless attempt to get him the hell away from Jak. “Leave him alone.” She ordered, the promise of violence forcing Erol to back up half a step. “And tell the Dark Maker ship to turn around.”

“And why would I do that?” he scoffed, brazenly glaring down at the weapon only inches from his face.

“Because everyone on this planet will die if they come!” Keira’s finger itch on the trigger; one shot would take his stupid, ugly cyborg head right off. “Do you really want that?” She doesn’t believe there is a shred of humanity in this husk of a man, even before he was half machine there wasn’t any true kindness to be found. Pleading is pointless, playing the sweet girl to fool him into saving the world a waste of time, but if she can find the right bargaining tool then maybe she can get Erol to stop the Dark Markers. If he can, that is. “What’s the point of this, Erol? You’ve already lost.”

The bow is ripped from Keira’s hands, snapped in half and tossed to the side, shocked and grasping at air Keira doesn’t have time to see the fist coming towards her. The force of the blow knocks her to the ground, ears ringing as the factory spins madly around her. Tears well in her eyes as the sting spreads across her already swelling cheek, there is copper on her tongue and an ache blossoming in her jaw. The world comes back in sharp fragments, righting itself as the ringing subsides, replaced by the sound of a scuffle.

Cheek pulsating, heart racing, Keira lurches to her feet, swaying dangerously. Blurry eyes take in the horrifying scene before her, Erol has Jak pinned to the ground beneath a giant metal foot, the glass tiles splinter under Jak’s weight, spiralling out like cobwebs. Any moment now the glass will shatter, sending Jak plummeting to the ground below and she’ll be left alone in this Godforsaken world. That’s not going to happen.

Keira flicks her wrist, the bracelet glows and vibrates with blue eco, uncoiling into a glittery silver cord. She grips it tight, channelling the blue eco, feeling it flood her bloodstream with electric energy. Keira’s been practising her channelling abilities for some time, unlike her father she is drawn to blue eco, it sings in her veins and hums in her bones. A natural connection, it called to her, works in harmony with her the way the trees and rocks work with her father.

She wills the whip to move with her, guides it fiercely into the air, letting it crack loudly in warning before flinging it towards Erol, where it coils around his neck in a silver noose. Eco surges through his body, shock momentarily frying his components, with one swift tug Keira pulls him backwards. Jak is on his feet in seconds, panting and limping towards safer ground. Keira tightens the whip against Erol’s neck, body spasming with another jolt of eco.

He staggers, mechanisms whirling and metal limps shuddering. For a heartbeat of a moment Keira thinks they’ve won, Erol will jerk and twitch than collapse to the ground, growing still as whatever hardware inside him shuts down. He falls to his knees, head bowed, panting through mechanical lungs. Her eyes meet with Jak’s from across the room, he has the blaster aimed at the back of Erol’s head, hands trembling violently.

He’s heisting, eyes glazed with memories of a time she knows very little about. It’s in this moment that Keira realises Jak’s never killed anyone in cold blood before, and despite his desire for revenge against the Baron, it was Kor who killed him in the end. Jak has only ever killed to survive or when given no other choice, has slain beasts and mutated sages, slaughtered nameless Krimson Guards under the control of dark eco, and while killing Erol is the right thing choice to make, it’s a heavy burden to bear.

The look of anguish in Jak’s eyes is heartbreaking, his hesitation proving the city wrong. Jak is not a cold-hearted killer, he is not a monster or a demon, or some eco-freak that’s only use is to be a weapon. He’s human. He’s so very human right now. And Erol is not. He is cruelty and hatred wrapped up in hardware and metal. There is no remorse for the wicked deeds he’d carried out, no goodness or light to be found inside whatever is left of his heart.

He is a monstrous machine hell-bent on destroying the world.

"Jak." Keira holds his gaze, feels the blue eco surging through her veins and into Erol. She’s growing weak if the spark burns out before Jak can act it's all over. "Shut him down." Her words propel Jak into action, granting him strength and courage to face his abuser.

“The Dark Makers, don’t play nicely with others, Erol,” Jak said, walking around Erol in a slow circle until they were face to face, “just ask the Metal Heads.”

“Please, you think I’m not aware that the dark creatures who have obliviated worlds might turn on me?” he scoffed, “I’m on borrowed time here Jak, this body can’t sustain my life force for much longer, but I don’t mind so much.” He shrugged, face contorting in pain as another burst of eco jolted through him. “As long as I crush this puny planet before my times up, it’ll all be worth it.”

“You’re going to great lengths just to kill me,” Jak remarked, hands coming to rest on his hips. “Still bitter you couldn’t beat me on the track?”

Erol struggles against the electric binds, Keira grits her teeth as the eco pulls the remaining strength from her bones. “Jak, I can’t hold him for much longer.”

Jak spares her a quick glance, nodding quickly before turning his full attention back to Erol. “We’re not your toys anymore, Erol.” One hand strikes out, skin paled grey, nails turned into black claws that sink into metal like scissors slicing through paper. With one quick tug, Jak pulls his hand free, Erol’s bionic heart clutched in his fist, beating its last beat. Erol spasms, lips twitch and eyes go dark, body toppling backwards.

It’s somewhat anticlimactic, one moment Erol is alive and the next he is not. There was a ragged gasp of surprise as Jak’s claws sunk into his chest, a guttural groan as his heart, a mangled combination of organ and wires, was torn clean out. Lifeless eyes stare up at the ceiling, dark eco and green liquid spill from the gaping hole in his chest, body sparking and fritzing, and for a moment Keira hopes he catches on fire. She wants this God-forsaken place to burn, for Erol to be nothing more than ash on the wind and a fading memory.

The whip falls from Keira’s trembling fingers, doubling over she gasps for breath, the air burns, a match striking at gasoline-soaked lungs. Her stomach twists unpleasantly, the stench of dark eco and death clogging up her mouth and nose. It takes a moment to grasp reality, the world ripples and shimmers like a dream, heart beating like a hammer as lungs struggle to find oxygen in the toxic air. The city winks at her from far below, a silent thank you.

Haven is safe. They are safe.

The monster who imprisoned and tortured Jak, who manipulated and controlled her, who tried to tear them apart, is dead. They can shut the factory down, go home and shower off the sweat and blood before crawling into a warm bed. The war is not yet won, but this is a victory worthy of celebration. Keira searches for a glimmer of joy, a trickle of relief, but there is nothing but sheer exhaustion to be found at the edges of her mind and depth of her bones.

There is no sorrow for the machine Jak slayed, any grief she’d felt at Erol’s passing was let go long ago. Underneath the numbness is closure waiting to be embraced, it will rise with a cleansing warmth, sever the last threads tying her to Erol, scatter them on the wind. Allowing her to move on, to be free of his evil clutches. The memories will fade and tear, no longer able to hurt or rip at her fragile heart. Closure will knit together a path into the light, stitch together a glittering road leading back to joy and love and Jak.

Embers rekindled, Keira snatches up the bracelet, slipping it on before casting a disappointed glance to at the broken crossbow. As Keira stands, she catches sight of Jak frozen in place, glistening eyes unable to look away from the body lying on the floor. Keira closes the distance between them, taking Jak’s face between her palms, gently encouraging him to look at her. Lashes flutter against the tears, shaky breath ghosting over her skin, cooling the sweat beaded on her forehead.

“We’re okay,” she whispered, stroking calloused and bloody fingertips over the exposed skin of his neck. “He’s gone.” Jak shudders face crumpling as the first wave of tears fall. Jak hasn’t cried in front of her since his ninth birthday, the pain from the whumpbees stings left him trembling and weeping. Jak comes undone, chest heaving in violent sobs that don’t make a sound. “We’re okay.” She repeats, chest tightening in despair, unsure of what else to say. 

What she wouldn’t give to have a glimpse inside Jak’s mind, to understand his torment. She knows little of his imprisonment, he’d always guarded her against those hellish tales, only sharing glimpses and snippets that weaved together create a picture that is blood-soaked and heartbreaking. Jak’s tears are glistening shards of buried trauma, muffled sobs hiding unimaginable pain. He’s breaking, letting the last of the walls come crashing down.

“We’re safe,” Keira promised, pulling Jak in for a hug, holding him tight as the hurricane rages. “ _You’re_ safe.”

Jak eases back, brows furrowed over haunted, shining eyes. "We still have the Dark Makers to worry about." He wipes at damp cheeks, leaving a streak of grease and blood "and Erol might be gone," his voice hitches slightly, is raw and vulnerable, "but this place is still fully functional."

Keira takes a moment to compose herself, exhaling the overwhelming need to curl up and hide them away until the world is no longer in danger, inhaling courage and the strength to finish this mission, willing it to Jak. "Don't worry." Jak needs a glimmer of light, a spark to reignite the embers, a steady hand to guide him to the end, so Keira curls her lips into her own patented grin; hopes it's encouraging and a little sassy. "I have an idea."

***

“That’s your idea?” Jak arches a brow quizzically, “blow the engines and drop the factory into the ocean?” The short walk to the control room has sobered Jak, eyes dried and warrior façade securely back in place. “I can get behind that.”

“Jinx gave me the idea,” she admitted, “but I know how much you like explosions.”

"I do have a reputation for blowing stuff up." Jak grinned proudly, stroking his goatee in thought. "What about the remaining death bots?" the smile wavered, brows curving into a slight furrow. "Haven's still crawling with them, and with the Metal Heads backing them up we still might not be able to save the city."

"I’ve got that covered too” she reassured. "I believe the Metal Heads will probably retreat now they've lost their new leader, and as for the KG bots, my theory is they will shut down once we destroy the factory, but if not," Keira reaches into the pocket of her borrowed pants, fishing out the flash drive nearly forgotten in all the chaos. "Vin and I have been working on a virus to take to out the bots for a few weeks now but it’s only a first draft, so to speak, and the virus isn’t a sure-fire way to put an end to the death bots,” she explained. “Erol could have easily made new machines with tougher malware, and the biggest pitfall is it can only be uploaded by the factory’s computer.”

She tapped the monitor, offering Jak what she hoped was an encouraging smile. He just stared at her like she was speaking another language. “It’s essentially a backup, backup plan and since we’re here, we might as well use it.” She scanned the console for the USB port, it was a far more complex system than what she was used to. “Besides I’m ninety-five per cent certain destroying the factory will be enough, but I don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

“I don’t suppose you have a virus that could wipe out the Dark Makers?”

Keira finds the slot amongst the panel of blue and red buttons, inserting the device, gaze shifting back towards the screen. “I wish I did, but I’m afraid you and Daxter are going to have to find a way to turn on the planetary defence system Veger was talking about.” The folder takes a moment to open, she can feel Jak peering over her shoulder inquisitively, it brings a smile to her face. “Maybe if we’re lucky the Dark Makers will turn around.”

"I doubt that." Jak sighed, breath tickling the nape of her neck. "Erol might have been the conduit between them, but his death isn't going to stop them from coming."

“I was kind of hoping Erol could have stopped them,” Keira confessed, brushing away a lock of tangled hair that fell across her face, obscuring the screen that now showed the progress bar of the virus’s upload. Almost there, two more minutes and they could leave this God-awful place. “Or that I could find have found the right bargaining chip.”

“Erol was beyond reason.” Jak’s voice is strained, raspy from crying.

“I’ll never understand what made him so cruel.” She keeps her gaze locked on the monitor, hoping Jak wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes or hear the despair in her voice. “Not that it matters, what he did to you is unforgivable.”

“He hurt us both, Keira.” Jak turns her towards him, touch gentle like she’s a delicate creature that he could easily crush to dust. Unlike Erol, who found pretty, fragile things to break, Jak handles her with care, more care than she deserved. After all this time, Jak still looks at her like he’s found the most beautiful treasure the world has to offer.

“We’re free now.” The words rise within, are spoken softly, reverberating in her chest, the sensation so powerful Keira can feel the first wave of closure crashing over her. It leaves her dizzy, chest heaving like she’s about to cry, vision blurring. Breathing deeply, she leans into Jak’s warmth, taking comfort in his embrace. She imagines this is how Jak felt in the aftermath of Erol’s death, overcome in an overwhelming relief that feels like being torn apart and stitched together at the same time.

The computer beeps, pulling Keira back to the task at hand. Reluctantly she let go of Jak, reigning in the overflow of emotions. “Alright, it’s done!” she tugs the USB out, tucking it back into her pocket. “We’re nearly far enough from Haven for me to start overloading the engines.” Composed, grasping the light burning inside, she marches towards the panel that controls the engines. “Once I’ve done that, we won’t have long to reach the hanger, but with the way cleared it shouldn’t take us too long.”

“Great.” The tension ebbs from Jak’s shoulders, brows smoothing out. “I’m so ready to go home.”

“God, me too,” Keira said, nose wrinkling as she glances down, taking in the ruined state of Tess’s clothes. “We need like seven showers.”

Jak grins coyly, eyes twinkling with desire.

"That’s not what I meant." She felt her cheeks grow hot, fumbling and babbling. "I mean… you know what I mean!" the coquettish grin remains on Jak's face, head titled slightly in teasing. Keira’s blush deepens, she feels caught somewhere between embarrassed and tempted. It’s a rapid change from the crushing emotions she’d just experienced, the shift in their moods is dizzying in a not entirely unpleasant way. “I'll leave you here.” She exclaimed, unable to think of anything else while Jak was looking at her like that.

Jak throws his head back and laughs, a beautiful, rich sound that Keira realises she’s never heard before. It makes her heart skip a beat, wraps around her like velvet and has warmth spreading through her cold and tired limbs.

“You can’t leave me here,” he protested, arms folding stubbornly over his broad chest, “I have to save the world, remember.”

"Well, maybe I'll save the world," Keira sassed, holding tight to this bright moment of joy, needing it as much as the very air she breathed. It was the eye of the storm, the calm before the crescendo and with the world on the edge of annihilation they had to cherish happiness whenever they could find it. No matter how fleeting. "Tess and I could handle the Dark Makers."

"Oh, I believe it." And she could tell he did, with every fibre and molecule of his being he believed in her. "Keira…" Ocean blue eyes held her gaze, shimmering with adoration. "You've been really brave; I just want you to know that."

“Thanks,” Keira smiles bashfully, truly touched by his words. “Though honestly, I’ve been pretty terrified.”

Jak shakes his head, hand held out as if to deny the words. “Well, you handled yourself like a pro through e _verything_ , so don’t sell yourself short.”

“I won't." Keira’s heart stutters in her chest, a beating reminder that she’s braver than she believes.

"Good, because you were amazing, and I was wrong to ever think you couldn't handle any of this."

"You were just trying to protect me.” Keira reasoned.

"I was, but today you protected me, you saved me." Jak lowers his gaze, staring at his mudded and scuffed boots, shoulders hunched forward like he is ashamed of what he is about to say. "When I was in prison there was no one there to defend me.” Fingers curl into tight fists at his side, voice straining under the loaded confession. “I couldn’t even protect myself most days." He looks up, eyes swirling with anguish and defeat, the sight ripping at Keira’s heart. "Everyone always assumes the hero doesn't need saving, right?"

"We all need saving sometimes, Jak.” It was all too easy to forget that Jak needed help at times, he played the role of hero so well, buried the pain and trauma so deep that it was almost impossible to see. Jak wasn’t invincible, wasn’t the brooding, sardonic façade he wore like armour. He was vulnerable and kind, a hero in need of saving. "Or maybe just a helping hand." She offers her hand, offers her whole heart too.

Jak’s face lightens with the faintest of smiles, he walks towards her, the chasm that once stretched between them sealing closed. He accepted Keira’s hand, gritty fingers lacing through hers. They’re not out of the woods yet, their paths might be realigned, hearts once more beating in time, but there are rivers and roads to go before this love is as steady as the ground that would soon be beneath their feet. There is trauma and pain to unpack, a dark army to defeat and a city, _a life_ to rebuild. There was no doubt in Keira’s heart that they wouldn’t make it through the fire and the smoke.

They would see the sunrise.

They would make it to that beautiful, brilliant, long-awaited happy ending.

**~~X~~**

The Hellcat judders as the force of the shockwave collides with it, fire and metal rain down around them. Keira's bones rattle, ears ringing in the wake of the explosion. Jak keeps the Hellcat steady, gaze held firmly on the city ahead. Keira is captivated by the destruction, turning around in her seat to watch the remaining chunks of concrete and red steel sink into the churning ocean. There is an empty slice of sky where the factory once floated, she feels it sink into the cold depths of the ocean, sees Erol in pieces, shrapnel and flesh disappearing from this world forever.

A shaky breath pulls from her lungs, rushing out past chapped lips, Keira falls back against the seat, fighting the wave of fatigue and the undercurrent of sorrow. The sorrow is not for her or Erol, it seeps out from the sixteen-year-old girl who thought she'd found a friend. No not just a friend, a saviour, a knight in shining armour to protect her from the leering racers and dangerous Krimson Guards. That poor girl was blinded, enchanted by pretty words and a perfect white-tooth smile.

Tess told her to be careful, her disapproval always keeping Keira just out of Erol's grasp, for that she is grateful. Tess pulled her away, and Erol lured her back in, then Jak returned, and the truth was revealed. Daxter drew back the blood-stained curtain and the image Erol carefully crafted came tumbling down. Keira never had a chance to confront him, to see the evil within, not until today. Today, she saw the monster he so cleverly hid.

A frigid raindrop landing on her cheek scatters the swirling thoughts. Up ahead Haven looms, smoke billowing into the dark sky. Thunder rumbles in the distance, the sounds of battle cries and screeching Metal Heads fill the spaces between each clap of thunder. The radio rustles, Torn's familiar gruff voice spilling out from the speakers, congratulating Jak on taking out the war factory and because Jak isn't one to seek praise or take credit, he says that he couldn't have done it without her. Which is sweet and touching, expect it reveals that she'd come along and wasn't tucked safely away back at the Naughty Ottsel.

For one terrifying, drawn-out moment of silence, Keira thinks her father isn't around, and Jak will swear Torn to secrecy than her father’s voice is booming through the speakers. Jak glances apologetically at Keira, chewing nervously at his bottom lip, eyes clouded with shame. Keira's stomach summersaults as her father shouts, rage unfair and harsh, making fear grip painfully at her wildly beating heart. Keira knows he only wants to keep her safe, but the double standard is infuriating. From a young age, Jak was encouraged to be heroic, bravery rewarded with praise and the villagers held him in high regard, though it was wholeheartedly deserved.

Jak was valiant and brave and had a destiny handcrafted by the Precursors to fulfil. But why should she stand on the sidelines, the good girl with the sweet smile and tools to fix things. Wasn’t Keira’s life just as predestined as the childhood friend she’d followed to the far, far north or was she doomed to live in the shadow of her greatest potential? Anger grew hot and thick in her veins, teeth grinding as the words bubbled, exploding just like the war factory did ago.

“I’m done sitting on the sidelines, daddy!” she exclaimed, words fierce and brave. “I might be new to all of this, but I know how to defend myself, I did so for two years if you recall.” She survived months on the streets, avoided fates so terrible it made her shiver just to think about. She might have been foolish enough to let Erol in, desperate enough for safety that she believed the lies, but she isn’t that scared little girl anymore, nor the sixteen-year-old who tried to fit into an adult world but found everything oversized and wrong. Genius doesn’t equal wisdom, but the last year has shaped her, has taught her valuable lessons and offered an insight she didn’t have before.

"Keira was incredible today, Samos,” Jak declared, tone leaving no room for interruptions. "She was brave and deserves credit even more than I do. It was her idea to blow up the factory, and she was the one with the backup plan for the death bots." Jak’s held her gaze, eyes shimmering with pride and a new defiance. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to you yell at her, she knew the risks and thanks to her we made it out alive."

There is a pause of staticky silence, a dramatic sigh and a begrudging apology. Keira will take what she can get, Jak's furrowed brow says he's not overly happy with Samos's response, but before he can say anything further Torn fills the awkward silence, ordering them to return to HQ once they return to the city. The radio goes dead, the engine roars and the wind whips cold pelts of rain against bruised skin. Haven burns and crumples below, charred rooftops of the slums smoothing out to shiny slopes of tin, the newly rebuilt section of the city mostly unharmed even after last night assault.

Keira turns to Jak, hand stretching out over the middle console to touch his arm. “Thank you.”

“It was overdue,” he shrugged, lips quirked into a subtle smile. “I meant what I said though.”

“I know,” she said, heart swelling with joy and beating with contentment for the first time in months. “He’s going to give us the cold shoulder for a week.”

“He’ll get over it.” Jak slowed the engines, Hellcat hovering a moment before lowering into the hanger. “He always does.” His nose wrinkles, tone biting. “It’s not fair that Dax and I get thanked for going on missions and you just get yelled at.” Jak shakes the irritation away, voice lightning when he says. “Anyway, today proves that you are resourceful and quick on your fit, not that I didn’t already know that.”

Keira leans back in her seat, examining the glittering bracelet laced around her slender wrist. “I was pretty badass, wasn’t I?”

The Hellcat settled a few inches from the ground, engines shutting off with a shudder. Jak turns towards her, steady hand reaching out to cup her cheek, thumb smoothing over the aching bruise. "You were.” He draws her in, bodies inching forward, lips so close she can feel Jak's breaths, feel the warmth radiate from him, enticing and lovely.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Keira freezes and Jak startles, head colliding with the beam above their heads. There is an amused giggle and an impatient thump of a tiny foot hitting the concrete floor. Cheeks burning and fingers curling in annoyance Keira slips, with as much poise as she can, from the fighter jet. Daxter looks up at her through narrowed eyes that look misplaced with the grin splitting his face in two. Tess stands at his side, maroon lips curled into a delighted smile.

“Do you two enjoy your rendezvous?” Daxter asked smugly.

“Was a little violent, but can’t complain,” Jak replied, just as smug, wrapping an arm around Keira’s waist in a display of affection she could happily get used too. “Did you manage without me?”

“It was woeful,” Daxter moaned melodramatically, “Samos almost lost what little of his mind that he has left, Ashelin was bossy, and Torn was even more of an asshat.”

“So, the usual, huh?”

“Yeah, the usual.” Daxter shrugged, dashing over to reclaim his perch on Jak’s shoulder. “Geez, you look awful and smell like someone poured gasoline into the sewer then threw in a herd of dead Yakcow’s. Let’s get you back to HQ before you get some kind of horrible disease, that’s if you haven’t already got one!”

Jak met Keira’s gaze, rolling his eyes good-naturedly at Daxter’s babbling.

"Holy Precursors, what happened to your face?" Daxter exclaimed, pointing a claw-tipped finger at Keira’s left cheek.

Keira rubs tentatively at her cheek, flinching at the dull burst of pain. “Erol has a mean swing.”

"It's a good thing he's dead,” Tess said fiercely, eyes narrowing to dangerous slits that glinted with the promise of violence, “or I'd hunt down and turn him into weapon parts!"

“He’s in pieces on the ocean floor,” Keira assured.

“Good.” Tess giggled, skipping over to take Keira’s free hand. “Let’s get a move on, shall we? Everyone’s waiting for us back at HQ, but don’t worry, I told your father that if he yelled at you again, we’d run off to the Wasteland with our boys.”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad, idea,” Keira sighed, looking from Tess to Jak, who looked tempted by the idea, “but the city still needs us.” Homes were without power and water, people were clinging to hope with desperate, bloody hands and Jak, the man they turned against, _banished_ to the Wasteland, was their only hope. Jak would never abandon this city, because as cold and unforgiving as it could be it was worth saving. Keira longed to see the sun-drenched dunes of the desert, yarned to explore the temple Jak spoke of, but she too had a part to play in the revival of this city. There were power grids in need of repairing, shield walls collapsed, zoomers in need of fixing. So much work to do, but first, she needed rest. “And I need a shower and a warm bed to curl up in.”

"My nose agrees!" Daxter exclaimed, "seriously, did you guys bathe in gasoline? Keep away from flames, or you'll light up like the fourth of July."

"It's not that bad," Jak retorted, "you smell worse when you're wet."

“Ouch, your words wound me, Jak.”

Keira and Tess share an amused smile before stepping out into the smouldering remains of New Haven, ash and rain fall from the sky, catching in lashes. Death bots lay motionless in the street, some shot through with bullet holes and others exploded into chunks. The dead have been cleared away; their blood not yet scrubbed from the pavement. A hush has fallen over this sector of the city, civilians and soldiers linger under awnings, huddled for warmth and staring out at the destruction with blank faces, numb and frozen from the cold.

An urge to help the relief workers who hand out blankets and steaming mugs of liquid to the shell-shocked civilians and dirty-faced soldiers sears through Keira. Aching bones and tired muscles remind her that she has been on the go for over twelve hours. Rest and food are needed, fatigue presses in as thick as the dark clouds gathered in the sky. She sways from the impact of exhaustion, Jak’s grip tightens on her waist, keeping her steady. HQ is insight, unscathed and glinting like the most precious treasure she’s ever seen.

Peace will not last long, the city is still crawling with Metal Heads, and the Dark Makers move closer with each passing hour, but at this moment she and Jak have done all they can.

**~~X~~**

Keira wakes to the muted light of a golden afternoon and the sense she has been asleep for a very long time. There are blurred memories of arriving at Head Quarters, horror in her fathers’ eyes at the sight of her dishevelled and bruised appearance. There are snapshots of eating bland vegetable soup with chewy bread, a marathon shower that filled the room with steam and stripped the blood and grime from her skin. She remembers drinking green eco tea, falling into bed, curling into a familiar warmth.

Then darkness.

Eyelids flutter, scattering the last tendrils of sleep. The clock on the nightstand reads three pm, her stomach growls in hunger, reminding her just how long she’s been asleep. She’s about to get up, wash the gunk from her eyes and brush the knots from her hair when she feels something warm and solid sling over her waist. For a moment she thinks it’s Tess, there are vague memories of Tess fussing over her in that big sisterly way of hers.

But the arm does not belong to Tess, it's scattered with pinprick scares that stand out against naturally tanned skin. Jak, her mind supplies, body relaxing under a wave of contentment. Jak’s breath tickles the nape of her neck, steady, even, indicating he is still asleep. Carefully, she untangles herself from his grasp, desire for a cup of tea pulling her from the cocoon of warmth. There is the sound of rustling sheets, Keira glances around expecting to see ocean blue eyes fluttering open, but Jak remains fast asleep, body curving towards the place she just lay.

He looks at peace, all the hard edges and lines smoothed out as the weight of the world is momentarily lifted from his shoulders. Bathed in golden light, in the arms of sleep, he looks like the fifteen-year-old boy who’d yet to experience cruelty and pain. There is a pang and a tug in her chest, an ache of longing and mourning twisting like thorns around her heart. Innocence was stolen the day they arrived in Haven; childhood torn from hands that were not yet ready to let go of care-free days.

Tears gather in Keira’s eyes, quickly she blinks them away, swallowing the pain, grounding herself in the present. She has shed enough tears for the life left behind, everything she needs is right here at her fingertips, is slumbering peacefully in the afternoon light. The ache floats away, chased by the radiating swell of love, the remaining strings of grief drifting away. Closure returns with its cleansing warmth and rush of emotions, makes Keira sway, has weight lifting from her shoulders.

The spell breaks, eyes open, seeing the world anew, she breaths in through new lungs, able to move, to go free. Keira tip-toes towards the tiny kitchenette makes tea for herself and black coffee for Jak, the smell luring him from sleep. She feels his eyes against her back, warm and familiar as the sun setting in the sky. Fuzzy memories resurface from last night, Jak lingering in the doorway with wet hair, asking without words if he could stay. She fell asleep in his arms, head tucked beneath his chin, the sound of his heart and steady breathing lulling her to sleep.

The memory feels like a dream, ripples and shimmers at the edge and if Jak weren’t here, bleary-eyed and smiling sleepily, then Keira would think she imagined it. But Jak is here, is staring at like she hung the moon and the stars. Drinks forgotten, she glides towards the bed, lured by those beautiful blue eyes and strings pulled by an outside force. She crawls onto the bed, crowding into Jak’s space. Calloused fingers whisper over her aching cheek, the sharp jolt of pain making her wince. Jak grimaces, hand recoiling like he was the sole cause of her pain. Blue eyes darken, hurricane wiping about, it is so easy for Jak to capsize in the pain that clings to him, his healing not yet over.

“It’s okay.” She reaches for his hand, the one he used to rip out Erol's heart, fingers lacing as she brings it to rest against her cheek. “I’m okay.” His fingers unfurl, a tingling, cooling sensation spreads through the left side of her face, leaving a wake of calmness and clarity. “You’re not always going to be able to protect me Jak.” She holds his gaze, sees the wrinkle of distress in the crease of his brow and the downturn of his lips. “And I’m not always going to be able to protect you.” The words are sharp and bitter, it’s a truth they are both painfully aware of her, fate had been unkind in the past, it could tear them apart at any moment. “But no matter what happens next, I will always be here for you, be it on the sidelines or fighting by your side.”

“Keira,” Jak says, like a prayer, words spoken next as sacred as an admittance of love, “you’re my hero, you know that, right?”

Keira’s heart is a drum beating a joyous rhythm. The word feels strange at first, an awkward fit that she isn’t sure she deserves. For so long Keira thought she needed saving, let Erol be her knight in shining armour just to ease the ache in her soul and fear in her chest. She waisted so much time holding out for a hero, choosing the wrong one, forcing Jak into a role that no longer fit, when she should have realised the only hero she needed was herself.

Her light was dimmed by Erol's controlling behaviour, he made her believe she was nothing without him. He planted fears and doubts, lied about what Jak had become an almost tore them apart. And despite her cruel words and unfair misjudgement Jak is still here, is looking at her with unconditional love while telling her, the five-foot-nothing mechanic who just stepped onto the battlefield yesterday, that she is _his_ hero.

They gravitate towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss that feels like fireworks and thunder. Jak is the winter to her spring. She is delicate rose petals hiding sharp thorns, and he is sharp edges concealing a gentle soul. She is the sunrise to his sunset, they are sinners and saints, bloodstained and haunted. They were best friends who fell in love so very long ago when they were young and innocent, living in a world of bright colours and fairy tale endings.

Keira leans back, staring into the depths of Jak’s eyes, blue like the ocean on a summer’s days, glittering with all the words that have yet to be spoken. “You're my hero too, Jak," she said softly, "not just because you've saved the world twice but because when we were seven, you rescued the sculptures muse from a tree in the Forbidden Jungle. You are my hero because on my tenth birthday none of the other village children came to my party, so you spent the entire day cheering me up. You are my hero because you always believed in me before anyone else did, even daddy.”

Jak stares at her, eyes glistening and heart hammering beneath her hand. “Keira,” he breathes, everything about the way he says her name making her dizzy, giddy. “I love you.”

The world stills, frozen in time just for this beautiful, long-awaited moment. “I love you too.” She whispered, afraid to speak any louder, risk shattering the clock.

With nothing left to say, Keira draws him back in, holding tight to him, to this golden, glittering moment before it can blow away. Before Jak is forced from her side and sent to places she cannot follow. When the spell breaks, when time starts turning again, they will have to part ways, but Keira knows, with all her heart, that their paths will always lead them back to one another, for even the stars could not keep them apart. 

 


End file.
